The Golden Visit

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2026-08-23 08:44:22 -

The Golden Visit

The ink in my well was the color of dried blood, and my hands, which had copied the High Chancellor’s decrees for twelve years, trembled with a cold that seemed to rise from the floorboards themselves. I was Elias, a scribe of no rank, a man who existed only to transcribe the will of the powerful into legible script, and I stood before the heavy oak doors of the Chancellor’s office with a...

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