The Wistful Ashes

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 21:00:25 -

The Wistful Ashes

The black ash was already in my hair when I woke, a fine, cold powder that tasted of iron and old stone. I wiped it from my lips with the back of my hand, leaving a streak of charcoal across my palm, and turned to the empty side of the bed. Elara was gone. The sheets on her side were cool, uncrinkled, as if she had evaporated into the walls rather than simply left. I sat up, the medieval timber...

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