The Faded Frontier
The bell of the Inquisitor’s office did not ring; it tolled. It was a heavy, iron-throated sound that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of my bones, a sonic anchor dragging the soul down into the damp stone floor. I sat in the high-backed chair, the leather worn to a smooth, lifeless gray, and watched the dust motes dance in the single shaft of light piercing the gloom. They were not mere...
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