The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-20 12:12:47 -

The Wistful Ashes

The carriage wheels groaned against the cobblestones of the lower city, a rhythmic, grinding sound that seemed to echo the grinding of my own bones as we ascended toward the Spire, the seat of the High Council and the heart of the Inquisitorial State. I was Thomas Bradshaw, a man whose name had been struck from the rolls of the Archive, a ghost with a pulse, traveling through the streets where...

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