The Golden Oath
The Inquisitor’s pen scratched against the parchment, a dry, abrasive sound that seemed to scrape the air clean of warmth. "You cite the old exemptions," he said, not looking up from the ledger, his voice flat and devoid of inflection. "The Statute of Internal Security, Section Four, overrides all prior oaths. Magic is state property. Your village is conscripted." Elias stood in the center of...
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