The Wistful Incense
The iron gate of the Blackfriars Citadel groaned open, a sound like a dying lung, sealing the world away. Captain Elias Thorne stood on the threshold, his breath pluming in the freezing air. He looked back once at the village below, where smoke curled from chimneys in thin, grey ribbons, and then he turned his face toward the dark, winding stairway that climbed into the fog. He was leaving his...
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