The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-19 08:55:33 -

The smoke from the censer did not rise so much as it hung, a heavy, grey veil that tasted of dried sage and ancient ash, pooling in the high vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall where the air was still enough to hold a breath for centuries. Colonel Arthur Penhaligon stood at the center of the polished obsidian floor, his boots planted wide, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of a ceremonial...

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