The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-19 13:58:21 -

The rain fell on the city of Aethelgard not as water, but as a fine, grey ash that settled into the creases of the cobblestones and the hollows of the eyes. It was a rain that had been falling for three days, or perhaps three centuries; time had lost its rigid architecture in the lower districts, dissolving into a continuous, muddy present. Thomas Ashworth walked through the silt, his boots...

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