The Wistful Incense
The weight of the parchment was three ounces, exactly the same as the weight of the bread Elias had not eaten in four days, a calculation he performed not with arithmetic but with the dull, grinding ache in his lower jaw. He sat in the scriptorium of the Order of the Veil, a room where the air was so thick with the scent of frankincense and rotting vellum that breathing felt like swallowing...
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