The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-24 01:44:56 -

The ink is thin, Julian. I have run out of the good stuff, so this paper feels brittle under my pen, like the skin over Thomas’s knuckles. He is burning again. The fever does not break; it only deepens, a tide that pulls him further into the dark. I am writing to you from Blackwood, the keep that feels less like a home and more like a throat swallowing me whole. I need you to come. Not with the...

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