The Faded Shield
The ink on the parchment was still wet when Elias Thorne noticed the smell of copper and decay rising from the nib. It was a sharp, metallic scent that cut through the usual mustiness of the Imperial Ministry archives, a smell that reminded him of the blood in his own mouth when he bit his tongue in pain. He held the quill steady, his hand trembling not from fear but from the sheer physical...
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