The Faded Ruin
The ink bleeds into the parchment with a slow, viscous hesitation, mirroring the tremor in my left hand as I press the nib to the page, for the Rot has begun to pick at the edges of my memory, dissolving the names of men I have known for twenty years into a grey, formless static that clings to the back of my throat. I am Elias Thorne, Senior Warden of the Northern Reach, and I am fifty-two...
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