The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-24 07:57:27 -

The Wistful Petal

Thorne. The word hung in the cold air of the watchtower, sharp as a blade drawn across glass. Elias jerked awake, his heart hammering against his ribs, the phantom sensation of shattering ceramic still clinging to his palms. He sat up, the metal cot groaning under his sudden weight. The room was dark, save for the grey pre-dawn light filtering through the grime-streaked window. On the desk, the...

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