The Faded Ruin
The seal cracked in the dream. It was a simple thing, black stone, etched with the King’s face, but in the dark of my sleep, it shattered into shards that sliced my palms. I woke with the taste of iron in my mouth, the scent of old blood clinging to my sheets. My name is Elias, and I am a scribe in the Obsidian Court. I am thirty-two years old, and my hands are steady, or they are supposed to...
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