The Faded Attic

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2026-08-20 15:06:04 -

The Faded Attic

The rain had not stopped in three days, a persistent, gray weeping that turned the cobblestones of Millhaven into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the smoke-stained brick of the foundry. Elara stood in the center of her small, cluttered parlor, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and the metallic tang of the ironwork hanging from her ceiling. She was a woman of indeterminate age, her hair a...

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