The Wistful Skyline

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2026-08-21 12:47:40 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world into a single, indistinct smear of slate and iron. I stood on the precipice of the cliff at Blackwood’s Edge, the wind tearing at my coat, and I felt the weight of the silence pressing against my eardrums, a heavy, physical thing that tasted of copper and old stone. Below me, the valley was a...

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