The Golden Mirror
The ink on the ledger page was still wet when I held it up to the gaslight, a shimmering, grotesque thing that looked less like a signature and more like a wound. Julian had been hanged three months prior, his body lowered into the earth with a silence that felt heavier than any scream, and now I, Elias Thorne, junior clerk in the Ministry of Internal Affairs, held the very instrument of his...
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