The Golden Scar
The exile papers were stamped with the seal of the Crown, a red wax circle that smelled of iron and dust. Elias Ashworth, a scribe of thirty years, held the document in hands that had not stopped trembling since the carriage left the capital. He wanted only to survive the winter in Oakhaven, a town rotting at the edges of the map, and he intended to do so by keeping the ledger for the local...
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