The Distant Journey
The seal is late, Elias, and the debt is yours. Master Aldric did not shout, which was worse than shouting, because shouting implied a loss of control, a crack in the veneer of authority that even a stonemason like you could exploit, but this quiet, flat tone, delivered while he tapped a chisel against his palm, carried the weight of the entire quarry, the whole crushing gravity of the stone...
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