The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 17:34:38 -

The mortar had set to the depth of three inches before Aldric checked the clock. It was four in the morning. The castle breathed, a slow, wet exhalation that smelled of wet wool and old iron. He stood on the scaffolding, his hand resting on the rim of the new wall, counting the hours until dawn. Twelve hours. The masons would arrive at six. He had twelve hours to finish the north buttress, or...

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