The Wistful Skyline
The fire does not consume the village so much as it erases it. You watch from the ridge, your boots sinking into the ash that has already begun to settle on the ancient pines, and you feel the heat not as a burn but as a presence, a heavy hand pressing against your chest. You are a scholar of herbs and humors, a man who has spent his life cataloguing the green world in ledgers, but you are...
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