The Wistful Skyline
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the lower city into a slick, black mirror reflecting nothing but the low, oppressive clouds, and Elara stood at the window of the high tower, her hand pressed against the cold glass, watching the world dissolve into a blur of wet stone and dying light, while inside, the air was thick with the...
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