The Distant Machine

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2026-08-20 10:02:59 -

The first letter is written in ash. It sits on the cold stone table, the ink still wet, smelling of burnt honey and sulfur. I press my thumb to the parchment. The surface is rough, like dried skin. "Come to the Spire," the letter reads. "The Lord requires the tithe." There is no signature. There is only the seal, a black circle stamped into the wax. I know what the seal means. I have seen it on...

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