The Faded Ruin
The bell did not ring so much as it screamed, a high, thin shriek that tore through the smog-choked air of the Lower Ward. It was the sound of the Boundary failing. Captain Elias Thorne stood on the parapet of the Watchtower, his hand resting on the hilt of his heavy, obsidian-forged blade, watching the sky above the city of Aethelgard turn the color of bruised plum. The air tasted of ozone and...
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