The Pale Fracture
The petition lay on the desk, the paper brittle and yellowed, smelling of the damp stone beneath the floorboards. You held the quill, the ink dry and thick, and looked at the signature line where your brother Kael’s name should have been, but was not. The light from the high window cut a sharp, dusty square across the wood, illuminating the dust motes that swirled in the stagnant air of the...
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