The Faded Sutra

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2026-08-22 19:17:33 -

The Faded Sutra

Elias, you are late for the morning watch. The voice came from the gatehouse, thin and sharp against the wind. I looked up from the stone tablet in my hands. It was heavy, cold, and carved with script that seemed to shift when I blinked. I was forty years old. I had served the Order for twenty-two. My son, Thomas, was nine, and he was standing behind me, holding my belt. "Coming, sir," I said....

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