The Faded Shield
The vial shatters in your hand, the glass biting into your palm as the liquid spills across the stone floor, evaporating into a scent of rotting lilies. You are Elias, forty-two, a scribe in the ancient city of Oram, and you have just destroyed the last of Livia’s essence. The air tastes of ash, a constant, gritty film on your tongue that no amount of water can wash away. For three years, you...
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