The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-21 09:35:59 -

The Wistful Ashes

The hall was a mouth, wide and gaped, swallowing the light of a thousand candles that burned with the white, cold ferocity of winter. It was the Feast of the Long Night, the year the walls held, and the air smelled of roasted boar, spiced wine, and the metallic tang of old blood that never quite scrubbed out of the stone. Elara stood at the edge of the dais, her fingers trembling not from the...

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