The Faded Paradox
Act I I have been dead for six months, or so the ledger suggests. My name is Rashid Mansour, a bonded scribe of the New Kingdom, and I am currently standing in the shadow of a walnut tree that does not appear on any map. The light here is wrong. It is the flat, grey light of a sky choked by industrial smog, yet it falls with the sharp, distinct angles of high desert noon. I am looking for the...
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