The Wistful Ashes
The wind does not howl in Oakhaven; it whispers. It slides through the cracks of the ancient stone, carrying the scent of wet ash and old iron, and you press your back against the cold wall of the guardhouse, listening. You are Elias, a warden for the fortress, and the year is 1942. The war outside is a distant thunder, but the danger here is quiet, intimate, and hungry. You want to survive the...
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