The Pale Banner
The wool cloak sat on my desk, its hem torn and frayed like a wound that refused to close, and I had only three days left before the winter solstice to mend it, a task that required more than thread and needle but a kind of forgiveness I was not sure I could give. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, the senior archivist at St. Jude’s Monastery, and I have spent the last decade cataloging...
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