The Wistful Ashes

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 08:10:50 -

The Wistful Ashes

The ledger lay open in your hands, its pages brittle as dried skin. You held it against your chest, the cold paper seeping through the wool of your tunic, while the wind outside the tent screamed like a wounded dog. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of coal smoke and the copper tang of Silas’s blood. He was gone. He had coughed up a red mist, his face contorted in a rictus that had no...

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