i once again find myself marvelling at the particularly poetic air of Ruocchio’s writing…
“Old men would sit at card tables and cafes along the city streets and speak of war to children for whom the very notion was a kind of myth. Boys would play at being Cielcin themselves and those old men would shake their heads knowing better, but not knowing how to teach their wisdom to those who followed on.”
— Apr 19, 2026 08:18AM
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