The Wistful Skyline

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2026-08-23 06:37:04 -

The root is running low, Elias. I looked up from the mortar, the pestle still heavy in my hand. The air in the chamber was thick, not with smoke, but with the cloying, sweet rot of the Sleeping Root. It smelled like overripe pears left in the sun, a scent that clung to the back of the throat and refused to wash away. Duke Alaric sat on the edge of his bed, his face pale as the parchment on my...

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