The Faded Sutra

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2026-08-21 12:13:04 -

The Faded Sutra

The cart groaned against the frost. It moved slowly, a wooden beast laden with the silence of the valley. Margaret Holloway sat at the rear, her spine rigid, her hands folded in her lap. The wool of her cloak was thick, heavy, and woven with a pattern that had once been blue. Now it was the color of dried blood. She did not look back. The road ahead was white, a blank page waiting for a verdict...

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