The Wistful Throne
The tower stood not as a monument to power, but as a wound in the landscape, a jagged scar of black stone and twisted iron that pierced the low, bruised clouds of the moor, and Silas Vane, the master architect whose hands were stained with the soot of a thousand failed calculations, sat alone in the shadow of its foundation, watching the light bleed out of the sky with the slow, agonizing...
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