The Faded Root

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2026-08-22 23:02:51 -

The Faded Root

The weight of the parchment was the first thing I noticed, not the silence that had swallowed the courtyard. I counted the sheets in the satchel against my hip, thirty-two, each one heavier than the last as the ink dried and the fibers stiffened with the damp cold of the Obsidian Keep. I was Elias, a scribe of the lower order, thirty years old, and my hands were shaking so badly that I could...

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