The Faded Masquerade
The leather of the gauntlet was cracking, a fine spiderweb of fissures that spoke of a life lived in constant, grinding friction, and Elias Thorne did not look at it, for to look at it would be to acknowledge the weight of the years he had spent pressing his will against the unyielding stone of the Magistrate’s decree, a decree that had stripped him of his rank, his name, and finally, his...
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