The Faded Photograph
The leather badge in your breast pocket has gone soft, the embossed oak leaf losing its ridges until it is merely a patch of darkened skin against the wool of your tunic. You are Elias Thorne, a constable of the Third Watch in Oakhaven, and for three weeks you have been trying to remember the sound of Silas’s voice before he died. The Grey Hum sits in the back of your skull, a low, static...
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