The Ash Wing

The Forgotten Fire

This wing smells of smoke and lost things.

The Riddle

I erase and preserve in one stroke.

I am what remains when memory is gone.

I cannot be written upon—only from.

What am I, made of what was burned?

Clue Cards

Pages scorched. Secrets sealed.
The Ledger
Even fire remembers music.
The Violin
The guests stood still. Their reflections danced.
Three of Mirrors
What is fair when the fire takes the truth?
The Ledger
Seven truths. All incomplete.
Seven of Whispers

Other Doors

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