The Golden Scar
The parchment lay on the obsidian table, its edges curling in the cold draught that seeped through the High Spire’s cracked windows. It was a list of names, inked in the sharp, angular script of the Inquisitor’s office, and at the bottom, in red, was the word *Execute*. Kael stared at it, his fingers trembling as he reached for the quill, the parchment rough and dry under his touch. He needed...
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