The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-18 17:39:26 -

The tower was not built of stone, though it looked like it, and it did not stand in a field, though the horizon suggested as much. It stood in the center of the Hall of Records, a vast, vaulted chamber where the air tasted of dried lavender and old vellum. I was the Keeper. For forty years, I had tended the Incense. It was a small, black brazier, no larger than a man’s fist, suspended by chains...

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