The Wistful Skyline

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2026-08-20 03:24:44 -

The wind did not blow through the windows here; it moved through the walls, a cold, dry exhalation that tasted of rust and old stone. I sat in the corner of the high, vaulted hall, my hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. The liquid was black and still, reflecting the fractured light of the chandelier above. It was a chandelier of glass, but the glass was broken. Not...

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