The Golden Scar
The ink will not come off. I watched the black smear spread across my knuckles, a dark tide rising in the veins, and I knew then that the theft was done. The Magistrate’s men were already at the gate, their boots crunching on the frost-hardened earth, but I was too busy staring at my hands to run. I had taken the final page of the Golden Codex from the Archive, a single sheet of vellum so thin...
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