The Wistful Skyline
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended mist that clung to the cobblestones of the old district, turning the gaslight into a bruised purple halo above the wet pavement. Elias Thorne walked with the heavy, deliberate tread of a man who has spent twenty years guarding the perimeter of a city that never slept, nor truly woke. He was a senior inspector of the night watch, a role...
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