The Wistful Ashes
The train did not so much arrive at the station as it exhaled into the valley, a long, shuddering breath of steam and coal dust that settled over the village of Oakhaven like a grey shroud. Elias Thorne stepped down onto the platform, his boots sinking slightly into the wet gravel, and felt the weight of the silence pressing against his eardrums. He was a man who had spent the last three years...
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