The Faded Road
The ink was still wet on the petition when the Guild Master’s finger stopped moving. "Lineage," he said, his voice dry as the parchment he held. "Your father’s blood is impure. The debt stands." I did not argue. I could not. My hand, the one holding the quill, trembled so violently that the nib skidded across the page, leaving a long, black scratch that looked like a wound. In my other pocket,...
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