The Distant Wound
The glass orb in your hand is warm, humming at a frequency that vibrates in the marrow of your wrist. You are Elara Vance, thirty years old, an Archivist in the Iron Spire, and you are cataloging the residue of the dead to keep your brother Kael out of the labor drafts. The air in the archive is sterile, smelling of ozone and old dust, but the vessel pulses against your palm like a trapped...
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