The Faded River
Chapter One I was grinding the indigo root when the dream took the stone from my hand, and the sound of the pestle striking the mortar was the only thing that kept me tethered to the damp floor of the workshop. The fabric in the vat had turned a sickly grey, refusing the deep blue that the magistrate’s commission demanded, and I knew with a physical ache in my shoulders that my hands were...
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