The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-23 11:42:36 -

The Wistful Ashes

The rain in Ostra did not wash things clean; it only made the grime slicker. Elias walked with his head down, clutching a manila folder against his chest as if it were a shield. The city was a monolith of grey stone, its spires piercing a sky that had not shown blue in a decade. He was thirty years old, though he looked older, his face gaunt from the thin rations that had been his portion for...

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