The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-23 22:49:09 -

The light was grey and thin, slicing through the manor windows like a blade through rot. "You are leaving before noon," Elias said, his voice flat, devoid of the warmth that might have softened the words. His father, old Arthur, sat in the wingback chair by the unlit fireplace, his hands trembling on the armrests, fingers hooked into the velvet like claws. "I am dying, Elias," Arthur whispered,...

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