The Wistful Skyline

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 11:07:20 -

The air in the Hall of Tides tasted of ozone and old iron, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat and refused to wash away. I stood at the far end of the obsidian floor, my hands clasped behind my back, feeling the familiar, dull ache in my left shoulder where the bone had once been shattered and set wrong by a blow from a man I had once called brother. The room was vast, a cathedral...

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