The Distant Journey
The fire did not begin with a spark, but with a silence so absolute it felt like a physical weight pressing against your eardrums, a vacuum where sound used to be. You stood in the center of the archive, the air thick with the scent of burning vellum and the metallic tang of old blood, watching the ceiling beams groan under the heat. You were the Keeper of the Seal, a title that carried no...
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