The Wistful Ashes

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 09:36:47 -

The Wistful Ashes

The ink was already wet. It bled into the skin of Elias’s hand, a dark vein pulsing beneath the pale surface. He did not look up. The scratching of the quill was the only sound in the room, a dry, rhythmic tearing that matched the beat of his heart. Around him, the air tasted of copper and old paper. The town of Oakhaven lay silent beyond the window, under a sky that was neither day nor night,...

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