The Wistful Ashes
You have kept the shawl in the hollow of the wall for one hundred and nine nights. On the hundred-and-tenth, it is no longer cloth. You are a Warden of the Ashen Gate. Behind you, the city of Halverton lies under its coverlet of smoke. Before you, the moors roll like the gray flank of a sleeping beast. Your duty is to hold the gate against the Returned — the unblessed, the unburned, the ones...
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