The Distant Legend
Act I "Entry 402: Sap yield, zero. Silence recorded at dawn." The ink on the ledger page was still wet when Imelda Renteria wiped her mouth, the handkerchief coming away stained with a pink that looked like crushed beet petals. She was thirty-two, a scribe of no particular rank in the temple city of Valoria, and her lungs were a ruin of wet cracks. The court smelled of damp stone and the sharp,...
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