The Distant Affair
"The seal is broken," said the town crier, his voice thin and reedy against the grey stone of the market square. He held up a piece of parchment, blackened at the edges, the ink swirling like smoke. "The Wardens have failed. The Gate is open." Elara did not look up from her work. Her hands were stained blue with indigo, the dye seeping into the whorls of her fingerprints, a permanent testament...
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