The Golden Master
The parchment was damp, the ink of the seal bleeding into the coarse fiber like a bruise, and you read the words for the third time, your breath fogging in the freezing air of the village square. It was a writ of execution, signed by the hand of Elder Thaddeus, a man who had ruled the valley for fifty years with a staff of ironwood and a heart of stone. You, Elias, a constable of forty years...
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