The Wistful Skyline
The bell in the tower of the Citadel did not ring; it screamed. It was a sound like tearing metal, a shriek that split the morning air and turned the heads of every courtier in the Great Hall. You stood in the shadows of the gallery, your hands trembling not from fear, but from the sudden, violent absence of the link you had felt for forty years. The silence that followed the scream was heavier...
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