The Wistful Saga
The fog in Millhaven did not lift so much as it thickened, a damp, grey wool that pressed against the windows of the orphanage and seeped into the bones of those who lived within its walls. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood in the center of the dormitory, his hand resting on the cold iron of the doorframe, his breath a shallow, rattling thing that he tried to hide behind the rigid straightness of his...
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