The Golden Scar
The bell did not ring at dawn. It screamed. I woke to the sound of the Great Chime, a bronze instrument that had not been struck in a hundred years, hanging in the tower of the Citadel. It did not mark the hour. It marked the breach. In our city, the sky was the only law, and when the Chime sang its dissonant, grinding note, it meant the clouds had torn open and the Ashfall had begun. I sat up...
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