The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-21 11:06:10 -

The Wistful Ashes

The air in the Hall of Nourishment did not smell of food, but of copper and wet wool, a scent that settled into the pores of young Elias Thorne and stayed there, a permanent residue of the life he was being processed into. He stood in the queue, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his knuckles white against the dull grey of his uniform, watching the steam rise from the communal troughs...

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