The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 03:28:31 -

The hall smelled of ozone and old blood. Sir Aldric stood before the central pillar, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword he would not draw, watching the shards of the Great Mirror lay scattered across the stone floor like broken teeth. He was forty years old, his face a map of scars earned in service to the Crown, and he needed the ledger. The ledger proved his loyalty; without it, the...

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