The Pale Path
The list was short, written in a hand that shook less than Elias’s own. Three lines of ink on parchment, detailing the contents of the Abbot’s private storehouse. Elias held the paper under the candlelight, the wax dripping onto his thumb, warm and painful. He read the first line: *Ultramarine, one vial, for the Chapel of St. Jude.* The second line: *Lapis lazuli, ground, for the Book of...
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