The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-19 06:09:20 -

The Wistful Ashes

The wind that scoured the high ledges of the Spire did not howl so much as it whispered, a dry, papery rustle that sounded suspiciously like the turning of pages in an empty library, and as I stood there with my back against the cold, damp stone of the observation deck, I realized that the air itself had become a substance, thick and viscous, tasting of copper and old ash, a flavor that coated...

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