The Faded Frontier
The iron was hot. It always was. Elara held it against the wall of the Archive. The metal screamed. Sparks flew like angry stars. They danced in the dark. They died on the stone. She was not human. Or rather, she was not fully human. Her skin was pale as parchment. Her eyes were the color of rust. She was a Keeper. A minor spirit bound to the town of Oakhaven. The people called her the Scribe....
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