The Distant Journey
The bell rang once. It was a sound I had waited for my whole life, and I hated it for being so small. I stood by the window. The glass was cold against my cheek. Outside, the courtyard was empty. Just stone. Just dust. The morning light cut through the arches like a blade. I held the paper in my hand. It was not a letter. It was a seal. A red wax circle, pressed into the parchment. The mark of...
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