The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-17 22:16:10 -

The Wistful Ashes

The rain in Oakhaven did not wash things clean; it merely made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones into mirrors that reflected the soot-blackened faces of the workers who huddled under the eaves of the Old Hall. I walked with the rhythm of a man who has forgotten how to stand still, my boots slipping on the wet stone, the sound of my own breathing loud in the narrow street where the air...

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