The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-22 05:56:30 -

The fog in the valley did not roll in; it sat, heavy and white, like a shroud draped over the bones of the earth. It swallowed the stone walls of the Citadel, a fortress built not to keep out enemies, but to keep in the silence. Inside this silence, Sergeant Elias Thorne stood before the Great Bell, his hands resting on the cold, bronze lip of the instrument. The air smelled of damp moss and...

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