The Distant Blade
The paper was thin, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and regret. Elias read the list of ingredients for the forty-third attempt at the elixir, his eyes tracing the precise measurements of dried foxglove, crushed pearl, and the distilled essence of moonflower. He signed the requisition form, the scratch of his pen loud in the sterile silence of the apothecary. The room was cold, a temperature...
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