The Wistful Saga
Chapter One Erik Odden counted the coins again, his thumb rubbing the rough edge of a copper mon until the skin turned red. The damp cellar of the merchant house smelled of wet straw and old rice, a scent that clung to his tunic and his hair. He needed two hundred ryo to clear the debt his father had left, a sum that felt heavier than the stone jars stacked against the wall. In the counting...
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