The Faded Chronicle
Elara woke with the taste of rust in her mouth. It was a metallic tang, thick and cold, coating the back of her teeth. She lay still for a moment, listening to the hum of the city outside. The rain had stopped, but the air was heavy, saturated with the smell of wet asphalt and diesel. She reached for the glass on the nightstand. It was empty. She had not drunk from it in days. The glass was...
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