It’s one of Ash’s favorite stories, filled with sun, death, a miracle, and an excuse to trash-talk the city. It’s a story that’s been repeated so many times since I came to Ashtown for work that it’s not even mine anymore. It’s air. It’s dust. It’s atmosphere. It’s not even really a story about anyone’s parents dying anymore. For most of Ashtown, it’s a story about a door that never opens.
