The Wistful Skyline

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2026-08-23 10:53:51 -

The ink was cold, a sludge of iron gall and grief that clung to the quill in Elias Thorne’s fingers. He sat in the shadow of the throne room’s western alcove, the only light source a single tallow candle that sputtered against the draft rising from the stone floor. Outside, the winter wind howled against the high windows of King Aldric’s citadel, a sound like distant screaming that seemed to...

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