The Wistful Crossroads
The quill scratches against the parchment, a dry, rasping sound that cuts through the heavy silence of the cell, and your hand trembles as you dip it into the inkwell, the liquid black and viscous, smelling of iron and old blood. You are Elias Thorne, a constable of Oakhaven for twelve years, and you are currently being forced to sign a confession for the embezzlement of the grain tax, a crime...
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