The Distant Crown
The dream began not with a sound but with a smell, the sharp, metallic tang of ozone and wet stone that always preceded the waking of the city, a scent that clung to the back of young Elias’s throat like a fishbone and refused to be swallowed, forcing him to sit bolt upright in the straw-stuffed bed he shared with his three younger siblings in a room so damp the plaster wept black tears onto...
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