The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-20 11:46:23 -

The hall smelled of roasting goose and old money. You stood at the periphery, a stain on the velvet wall, holding the ledger. It was not a book of accounts. It was a skin of parchment, brittle and yellow, bound in leather that had once been red. The ink was faded, but the names were legible. Your name was at the bottom. You were the investigator. That was your title, though no one wore a badge....

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