The Wistful Grid

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2026-08-23 18:14:00 -

The Wistful Grid

I dreamt again of the ash. It was not the grey dust of a fireplace, but a fine, white powder that settled on the tongue like snow, tasting of burnt sugar and old iron. I woke in the small hours, the silence of Ashwood Asylum pressing against my ears, a heavy, velvet weight that muffled the distant clatter of the boiler room. I am Elias Thorne, Captain of the Guard, though the title has lost its...

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