The Wistful Ashes
Chapter One "You are marked, Mirsada. The dust does not lie." I woke with the taste of iron in my mouth, the thirty-one of the Tannery Steps still echoing in my bones from the night’s dream. The Ash was there, gray and fine, coating the inside of my eyelids. I did not wipe it away. In our line of work, you learn to let the world settle before you move. I dressed in the dark, the fabric of my...
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