The Faded Sutra
The letter from the prior lay on the workbench, its wax seal broken, the parchment stained with the grease of your chisel and the sweat of your palms, detailing the commission for a new altar of white Carrara marble, a sum of forty shillings to be paid in three installments upon completion, a debt that weighed heavier than the stone you were tasked to break. You are Elias, a stonecutter of...
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