The Faded Frontier
The ink on the parchment did not dry; it breathed. It shifted in the gutter of the page, curling like a dying leaf before settling into a rigid, black script that Elias could not decipher. He sat in the center of the drawing room, a space that had once been a sanctuary of mahogany and silence, now a cathedral of dust and despair. The fire in the grate had long since burned to white ash, yet the...
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