The Distant Garden
"Check the seal." The voice was flat. A command, not a question. It came from the shadows of the archway, where the stone was worn smooth by centuries of passing feet. It was not a voice one heard often. It was the voice of the Ledger. Elias Thorne did not look up. He was focused on the tablet in his hands. It was a slab of obsidian, cold and heavy, etched with a single, intricate glyph. The...
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