The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-17 20:19:07 -

The fire started in the orchard, not with a roar, but with a whisper that turned into a scream. I stood on the balcony of the Grand Hall, my uniform crisp, my medals cold against my chest, watching the ancient apple trees twist in the heat. The smoke smelled of burnt sugar and old wood, a scent that had haunted my dreams for decades. It was the smell of betrayal, but I didn’t know that yet. Not...

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