The Faded Guest
The ledger of the Boundary Wall’s integrity had grown thin, its pages brittle as autumn leaves, and Elias Thorne counted the remaining hours of light with the same clinical precision he applied to the survey of the city’s edge. He was thirty-two, a municipal cartographer of modest renown, and he had twenty years of service to his name, a tenure that felt less like a career and more like a slow,...
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