The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-23 23:44:02 -

The ledger weighed four pounds, a slab of bound leather and ink that Elias Thorne carried like a shield into the Guild Hall. The room smelled of roasted goose, spilled wine, and the damp wool of thirty men who had come to watch him fail. He counted the pages, one by one, his fingers tracing the worn edges, a ritual as old as the debt he owed. Master Aldric sat at the head of the long oak table,...

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