The Golden Scar
The ash fell like snow on the cobblestones of the Court of Whispers, settling into the cracks of the ancient flagstones with a silence that felt heavier than the stone itself. Elara Vance stood amidst the ruins of the Archive, the soot blackening her hands, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps that burned her throat. She was thirty years old, an inquisitor of the High Council, and her...
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