The Wistful Dinner
The ink on the parchment had not yet dried when the first crack appeared, a hairline fracture in the center of the seal that seemed to breathe with a faint, rhythmic pulse. Julian Thorne, the Archivist of the Old Quarter, did not look up. His hands, stained permanently violet from decades of handling the rare pigments of the scribes before him, remained steady as they aligned the final folio of...
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