The Wistful Silence
Chapter One Did I ever truly understand why the ink dried so quickly on the parchment, or was it simply the dryness of the air that made the words vanish before I could read them back? I am Clifford Barlow, a scribe for the Guild in Ostriv, and for twenty years I have ground my own knives to keep the edges sharp enough to cut through the bureaucracy that surrounds us. The new decree arrived on...
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