The Faded Sutra
The chisel struck the limestone with a sound like a bone breaking, and Elias Ashworth felt the shock travel up his arm, settling in a dull ache that had become his constant companion for the last three years. It was the year of our Lord 1342, and the spire of St. Jude’s Cathedral stood half-finished against a sky the color of bruised iron, a jagged tooth in the mouth of the city that promised...
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