The Scribe’s Confession

The candlelight flickered in the dim chamber, casting long shadows across the worn parchment on my table. I dipped my quill into the ink pot, pausing for a moment as doubt gripped me. Was this right? Was this…justified? But the memory of the dwindling crowd in the square—once so vibrant, now so sparse—pushed me forward.… Continue reading The Scribe’s Confession