The Mirror of Ages

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2026-05-28 06:48:43 -

Act I The cotton field smelled of earth and heat and the slow decay of things that had once been alive. Clara Beaumont stood at its edge, her bare feet planted in the warm dirt, and looked up at the sky, where something was moving that had no right to be moving. It was not a bird. It was not a cloud. It was a shape—dark and angular and absolutely silent—gliding through the late August sky above...

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