The Wistful Cipher
The ink is cold. It bites into the parchment, a sharp, chemical sting that mirrors the chill creeping up my spine. I am Elias, a scribe of thirty years, and I am alone in the crypt of St. Jude. Above me, the weight of the abbey presses down, a stone lid on a coffin. I want to decode the Wistful Cipher. I need to find the proof of my father’s sanity before the executioner’s axe falls at dawn. He...
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