The Faded Chronicle

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2026-08-23 21:29:33 -

The ink was still wet on the parchment, sticky and black as a bruise, when Elian’s hand began to tremble. He pressed his thumb against the edge of the desk, the wood grain rough and splintered under his skin, trying to steady the line of the date he was writing. It was not a date of entry, but of exclusion. Outside the window, the town of Oakhaven lay under a grey, heavy sky that promised rain...

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