The Faded Frontier

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 20:08:24 -

Act I The obsidian mirror did not reflect the face; it reflected the weight. I knew this because I had carried the stone from the riverbed at eighty-four of the Ferry Slip, where the water ran black with silt and the air tasted of iron and rot. I stood before Magistrate Moray in the vault, the damp seeping into the wool of my tunic. My hands shook, not from cold, but from the effort of holding...

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