The Distant Affair

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2026-08-23 16:32:39 -

The ink was not black, but a deep, arterial red that seemed to pulse with a slow, rhythmic throb against the parchment, and Elara held the quill with a hand that trembled not from fear, but from the sheer, terrifying weight of the vitality it was draining from her veins. She was thirty years old, a scribe of the Abbey of Saint Jude, and in the year of our Lord 1342, she had made a bargain with...

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