The Faded Sutra
The seal was cracked, a fine hairline fracture running diagonally across the wax, but the impression remained. It was a complex glyph, spiraling inward toward a center that seemed to recede the harder one looked at it. Elias Vane held the tablet up to the gray light filtering through the high, dust-moted windows of the Archive, his fingers trembling not from cold, but from a sudden, visceral...
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