The Faded Ruin
The tip of Elias’s index finger was blackened, the skin peeling away in thin, translucent strips that curled like dead leaves as he pressed it against the parchment. The map did not burn; it absorbed, drawing the heat from his flesh until the nerve endings went numb, a sensation that was less like pain and more like a slow, cold erasure of the self. He held the artifact with a grip that had...
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