The Faded Shield
The parchment was brittle, its edges crumbling under Elias’s thumb, the ink faded to a ghost of its original black. It was a petition, drafted in the precise, angular script of a scribe who had once served the crown before his exile, and it lay flat on the cold stone floor of the antechamber while Elias waited for the High Priest to acknowledge his presence. The air in the room was thick with...
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