The Golden Harbor
The quill had cost three pence, a sum that represented two days of bread and a full week of silence in the scriptorium, and Elias held it with the same trembling reverence he reserved for the silver chalices in the sacristy, knowing that every stroke of the feather was a debt paid in blood that he did not fully possess. He sat in the damp, candlelit cell of the Abbey of St. Jude, the air thick...
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