The Wistful Incense

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 20:38:49 -

The letter sat on the table, its wax seal unbroken, smelling of sulfur and old paper. I did not open it. I knew what it said. The Guild always sent the same words when the debt was due, and my debt was the iron collar around my neck. It was a heavy thing, cold to the touch, fused to the flesh of my throat. For ten years, I had worn it at Oakhaven Keep. For ten years, the ash of the dying had...

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