The Faded Shield
The quill trembled in Elias’s hand, a thin black stick of oakum that seemed to vibrate with its own internal life. He held it over the vellum, the tip hovering a breath’s length above the parchment, where the ink had already begun to dry into a dark, jagged scar. The candle in the iron holder beside him guttered, casting long, wavering shadows that stretched across the scriptorium floor like...
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