The Distant Legend
The coat is red. It is a violent, arterial red, the color of a fresh wound or a stop sign bleeding into the snow. You hold it in your hands. The wool is heavy, damp with the cold air of the office, yet it feels lighter than air, lighter than the silence that has swallowed the room. You are the Elder. You have served the Guild for forty years. You know the weight of every decision. You know the...
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