The Wistful Crossroads
The ink in your veins is not merely pigment; it is a ledger of sins, a dark river that has carved its channel through your flesh since you were old enough to hold a quill. You are Elias, thirty-two years of age, a scribe in the walled town of Oakhaven, where the air smells of tallow and wet stone, and every citizen bears the visible history of their deeds written upon their skin in indelible...
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