The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-20 00:06:45 -

The Wistful Petal

The road to the Spire was not paved, but packed with the ash of a thousand burned letters. I walked it for three days, my boots soft against the grey dust, until the horizon collapsed into a single, jagged needle of obsidian piercing the low-hanging mist. I was not a hero. I was a prisoner of a mistake I had made in a life that felt like it had happened to someone else, a life where I had loved...

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