The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-22 18:21:48 -

The Wistful Ashes

Thorne. The word hung in the air, heavy as a dropped hammer. I did not look up. My hands were buried in the warp, fingers numb from the cold of the workshop and the colder pull of the Loom. The shuttle clicked against the heddles, a dry, mechanical sound that marked the passing of another hour. Outside, the gray city of Oakhaven stretched out under a sky that had not turned blue in six years....

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