The Wistful Campus

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 09:09:13 -

Chapter One "You’re bleeding again, Malcolm." The voice belonged to the Justiciar, a man whose face was as unremarkable as the grey stone of the court, standing in the boiler room where the pipes groaned like dying men. Malcolm Balfour looked down at his left hand. The skin was intact, yet blood seeped from the knuckles, dark and warm, soaking into the wool of his glove. He was thirty years...

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