The Faded Portrait
Chapter One It was only later, when the dust had settled and the lanterns hissed their low, oily complaint against the night, that Naveed Sial understood the weight of what he had built. He remembered the first mild evening, when everyone in the village was outside, breathing the cool air off the canal, and he was inside, alone with the clay tablet. The tablet sat on the workbench, its surface...
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