The Wistful Ashes
Chapter One You remember the weight of the iron before the taste of the dust, a heaviness that settled into your marrow in the year 1247, when you stood in the throne room demanding the execution of a peasant for stealing grain, and the obsidian floor beneath your boots cracked with a sudden, localized tremor that revealed a faint, pulsing vein of red earth defying the court’s sterile geometry....
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