The Faded Guest
The letter lay on the oak table, its seal broken, the ink still dark and wet as if the quill had only just lifted from the parchment. It was a notice from the High Council, brief and cold, reminding me that the Winter Solstice was three days hence and that the Warden of Oakhaven Keep must present the Heart of the Moon for consumption before the moon reached its zenith. I read it twice, my...
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