The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-20 17:36:05 -

The rain fell on the city of Aethelgard like a curse written in silver. It did not stop. It had not stopped for three days. The stones of the old district glistened, slick and cold, reflecting the dim light of the lanterns that no one had lit. In the center of the square stood the Watchtower. It was not a tower of stone, but of bone and iron, rising from the earth like a jagged tooth. It held...

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