The Distant Journey

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 14:28:00 -

The ink on the parchment was not black. It was the color of old blood, a deep, viscous crimson that seemed to pull light into its depths rather than reflect it. Elias, ten years old and small for his age, sat at the oak desk in the Chamber of Records, his knuckles white as he gripped the quill. The air in the room was still, heavy with the scent of iron and dust. He did not look up at the High...

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