The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-23 17:24:03 -

The silver was cold against my palm, a jagged tooth of memory that had been grinding me for three years. I am Elias, forty-two, and my life has been reduced to the maintenance of ink and the preservation of secrets in the damp stone halls of Duke Valerius’s castle. My wife, Clara, died in the winter of my fortieth year, leaving behind a shattered vanity mirror that I had begged to keep. The...

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