The Distant Metropolis
The document was a single sheet of heavy cream paper, stamped with the wax seal of the Citadel, the wax cracked and flaking like dried mud. I held it up to the grey light filtering through the high windows of the guardroom, the rain hammering against the glass with the relentless, dull thud of a thousand fists. The ink was faded, brownish, but the words were clear enough to make my hands...
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