The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-19 12:09:37 -

The Wistful Ashes

The ash fell like snow in the grey courtyard, a fine, grey powder that coated the cobblestones and the iron gates of the Sanctuary. It did not smell of smoke, but of dry paper and old dust. Elias stood at the edge of the garden, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his wool coat, watching the flakes settle on the shoulders of the statue of Saint Clement. He was a boy of twelve, though his...

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