The Wistful Show
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a scream that tore through the silence of the Great Hall like a jagged tear in silk, and in that single, shattering instant, the world as Elara knew it ceased to exist. She stood in the center of the polished marble floor, her armor, a patchwork of steel and leather that had been her second skin for thirty years, suddenly feeling heavy and alien...
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