The Wistful Voyage
The letter lay on the table, its seal broken, the ink still wet with the smell of the clerk’s office. You read it twice, the words blurring not from tears but from the sheer, heavy weight of the paper in your hand. "Denied." That was the word that stuck, a stone dropped into the well of your future. You were Elias Thorne, forty-two, a border constable in the ancient city of Oakhaven, and you...
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