The Distant Whispers
The order was a single sheet of heavy, cream-colored parchment, the ink still wet and bleeding into the fibers like a bruise. Captain Elias Thorne held the document with hands that did not tremble, though the weight of the paper seemed to pull at his wrists, dragging them down toward the cold stone floor of his office. He read the name at the top: *Thomas Bradshaw, Baker, Lower District.* The...
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