The Wistful Ashes
The vial in your hand is cold, the glass sweating a thin condensation that smells of wet earth and iron. You are Elias Thorne, forty years old, Archivist of the Bureau of Nutritional Purity, and you hold the final prototype of the Sedative Loam, a soil additive designed to suppress the hunger pangs of the lower districts. The year is 402 of the New Order, and the city of Aethelgard hangs...
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