The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-19 05:01:23 -

The Wistful Ashes

The air in the high galleries of the Spire did not smell of dust or decay, as the histories of the old world claimed it should, but rather of sterile ozone and the faint, metallic tang of the Great Clock’s exhaust, a scent that had become so intimate to the citizens of Aethelgard that they had long since forgotten the name for the air that used to carry the scent of rain. Sir Julian Vane stood...

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