OJboss

  Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Fog of Smithfield London has always been a city of layers, a palimpsest where every century writes over the last without ever truly erasing it. In the tales passed down through the centuries, beneath the layers of Roman brick and Victorian iron, there exists a mythical layer of soot and silver—the London of the Witches. In the year 1888, the legends say the fog didn't just crawl through the streets; it breathed. It was a "pea-souper," a thick, yellow miasma that tasted of coal smoke and river rot. In the shadow of St. Bartholomew-the-Great, where the air still held the ghostly scent of the martyrs' fires, a fictional seamstress named Aveline Thorne walked with a purpose that defied the damp. In this narrative, A...