The Faded Chronicle
"You missed the alignment," said Elias. He did not look up from the loom. The shuttle clicked. It was a dry, sharp sound. Like a bone snapping. "I saw it," I said. "But the thread was tangled." Elias stopped. The click ceased. The silence in the shed was heavy. It pressed against my eardrums. "Tangled," he repeated. His voice was low. Rough. "That is not a reason, boy. That is an excuse." I...
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