The Golden Scar
The eviction notice was a slip of grey card, thin as a leaf, resting on the desk of Elias Thorne, Archivist of the Second Class, in the sterile, high-ceilinged archives of the State. He held it with a hand that trembled, a fine, rhythmic palsy that had begun to creep up his wrist like ivy, betraying the forty years he had spent hunched over ink and paper. The manor, that crumbling relic of the...
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