The Faded Guest
The ink on the page did not dry; it dissolved. Elias watched the black letters of the royal chronicle bleed into the parchment, not with the slow seep of water damage, but with the rapid, hungry retreat of a tide pulling back from the shore, leaving behind only the faint, ghostly impression of a script that had never been written. He set down his quill, the nib trembling, and looked up at the...
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