The Distant Joke

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2026-08-23 19:18:46 -

The Distant Joke

The obsidian seal sits upon the mahogany desk, its surface fractured by a hairline crack that runs from the northern face to the southern, a scar that mirrors the tremor in my left hand as I dip the chamois cloth in the polishing oil. I am Silas Vane, Imperial Marshal, fifty-two years of age, and for the past nineteen years I have served the Crown with a devotion that has outlasted my youth, my...

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