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... e your heads as ink stones
By the time Isabella went back to check on her new tools, several hours had passed. The fire in the workshop had burned low, and only a gentle orange light shone over the stone trays.
Her rough paper sheets lay there quietly. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮
She touched the nearest one very carefully, like it might crumble if she breathed too hard on it. The surface felt dry and firm. When she lifted one edge, it peeled away without tearing.
The ...
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