The Faded Frontier
The parchment was brittle, the ink faded to a brownish gray, but the words were clear enough to cut the eye. Elias Thorne held the Guild Master’s order in his left hand, the grip white-knuckled, while his right hand hovered over the anvil. The paper listed the specifications for the Iron Key: length, width, the precise angle of the teeth. It ended with a single, underlined clause: Failure is...
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