The Faded Sutra
The bolt hit me before the scream did, a heavy, wooden thud against my shoulder that sent a shock of white fire down my arm. I was on my knees in the mud of the Auvergne, the taste of iron and wet earth thick in my mouth, the jade sutra box clutched so tightly against my chest that it bruised my ribs. Three days since Thomas died, three days since I promised to carry his proof of loyalty to the...
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