The Pale Path
The ink is still wet on the final page when the torches are extinguished in the lower hall, plunging the scriptorium into a darkness so absolute it feels solid, pressing against your eardrums. You are Elias, thirty-two years old, and your hands are trembling not from fear but from the sheer, physical weight of the truth you have just copied into the forbidden ledger, a truth that will free your...
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