The Wistful Show
Act I In the walled town of Oren, ink was a currency that ate the writer. Hassan Santoso stood at the telegraph exchange, the click of the wires sounding like teeth chattering in the cold. He held the debt ledger for his brother, a book of leather and salt, its pages heavy with the Guild’s prejudice. The Guild claimed Hassan’s hand was cursed, that his guilt would erode the script. They were...
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