The Faded Portrait
The order was stamped in red ink, the paper thin and brittle as dried skin. Elias held it up to the grey light of the borderlands, his fingers trembling around the edges. It was a requisition form, Form 7-B, issued by the Bureau of Containment. It listed his name, his age, and a single, damning charge: Unauthorized Retention of Volatile Sap. The mud beneath his boots was cold, seeping through...
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