The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-23 05:34:58 -

The ink on the ledger was still wet, a dark smear against the cream paper that smelled of oak gall and iron, and I signed my name with a flourish that felt, in that quiet hour, like a signature on my own surrender. I am Elias, a clerk of modest means and moderate ambitions in the damp, medieval town of Oakhaven, where the mist clings to the cobblestones like a second skin and the air always...

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