The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-24 10:33:29 -

The fever in Elara’s blood had a weight to it, a physical heaviness that pressed against the inside of her skin like wet sand, and I could feel it draining from her even as I held her hand, my own fingers trembling not from cold but from the terrifying, rhythmic pulse of a vein that had turned the color of old iron. It was the fourteenth of October, 1348, in the city of Ashworth, and the air in...

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