The Faded River
The letter was stamped with the royal seal, the wax cracked and cold, the ink a faded brown that smelled of old blood. Elias Thorne held it in his gloved hands, the leather stiff from years of riding, and read the directive that stripped him of his authority. It was a simple thing, a bureaucratic erasure, stating that Constable Julian Thorne was to be released on grounds of procedural...
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