The Distant Legend
The ink on the page was red. Elias Thorne stared at the blot, a fresh smear of crimson against the parchment of the Black Ledger, his fingers trembling as he pulled them back. In the quiet of the Municipal Archives, the smell of old paper and dust usually comforted him, but today it carried a metallic tang, like blood. Magistrate Vane stood by the door, his silhouette framed by the grey...
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