The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-19 09:45:33 -

The Wistful Ashes

The tower was not a building. It was a wound in the sky. It stood alone on the black plain. No grass grew near it. No birds nested in its spires. It was made of grey stone, ancient and cold. The stone wept. A thin, dark liquid ran down its face. It smelled of iron. It smelled of old blood. Elias stood at the base. He was small. He was tired. He carried a lantern. The flame was blue. It did not...

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