War

The Iron of Brooklyn pexels photo 2892243 5

The Iron of Brooklyn

The forge fire crackled, casting jagged shadows across Eli Tremain’s calloused hands. The air reeked of smoldering oak and iron, a scent that had clung to him since the first cannon blast shattered the dawn quiet. His son, Samuel, had…

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The Weight of Ashes

The air reeked of burnt oak and iron. Clara knelt in the dirt, her fingers digging into the soil as the distant boom of cannon fire rattled the windows of the farmhouse. The sky above Richmond had turned the color…

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The Iron Veil

The air reeked of iron and burnt leather as Clara tightened the straps of her uniform, her fingers brushing against the cold steel of her bayonet. The campfires flickered in the distance, casting long shadows across the muddy field. She…

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Ember Maps

## Ember Maps The coal dust clung to Elara’s throat, a gritty film that no amount of scrubbing quite removed. She coughed, the sound swallowed by the cavern’s dampness. Around her, a dozen others hunched over polished slate tablets, their…

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Fragile Echoes

The air tasted like rain and cinnamon. It clung to my skin, a thick, viscous sweetness that made it hard to breathe, yet I didn’t want to. Not really. Because breathing was difficult anyway. Mostly, I just drifted. Drifted through…

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The Shadowed Valley

The maces, bound with tarnished silver, swung in practiced arcs. Each impact on the training dummies echoed the weight of generations. Old grievances. The Elkhire. They hadn’t stood shoulder-to-shoulder in centuries, not since the Split. Now, a shadow army massed…

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Silencio

Elisa’s shoulders bunched, a tight knot beneath worn leather. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light slicing through the high, barred window. Years had scraped against her, leaving a residue of mistrust. “Release it.” Forian’s fingers, calloused and…

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