The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 04:08:55 -

The glass in my pocket is cold. It has been cold for three days, a slab of ice against my hip that burns through the wool of my tunic. I am Thomas, Captain of the King’s Guard, and I am forty-two years old. I do not care for the title. I care for the fact that my brother, Elias, is dying in the sickroom above the barracks, his breath coming in wet, rattling gasps that sound like the sea pulling...

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