The Pale Echo
The ink on the parchment is dry, but the stain remains. You know this because you have watched it for three years, a dark blotch in the corner of the ledger that never quite fades, no matter how much you rub it with your thumb. It is a minor imperfection in an otherwise perfect record, a flaw in the accounting of the House of Ashworth. The ledger is the object that defines your existence here,...
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