The Empire's Dirge
The marble of the capital was turning the color of dried blood. It was the year of the Great Ebb, and the Empire of Aethelgard—which had spanned three continents and a thousand years—was finally folding in on itself. In the streets, the gold-leafed statues of forgotten emperors were being pulled down by mobs who had forgotten how to eat. In the palaces, the nobility continued to dance, their...
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