The Distant Blade
The ink bled red before I could even lift the quill. It was a thin, arterial line that spread across the vellum, staining the capital ‘A’ of the final chapter. I stared at it, my hand trembling, while the Abbot stood behind me, his shadow long and cold in the scriptorium. He did not shout. He simply watched the blood soak into the parchment, a wet, dark stain that looked less like pigment and...
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