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Chapter 447 - B7 - Prologue: Consequences
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... hreads of force. Letters wrote themselves in elegant script, wax seals pressed down by unseen hands, ribbons tied and tagged with flawless coordination. Each piece of correspondence vanished in a flash of light as it was sorted, signed, and sent away.
At the center of the cyclone sat Zeke.
The newly appointed Merchant Lord of Tradespire rested at his desk, one hand holding a steaming cup of black tea, the other flicking through a stack of scrolls marked with sigils he did not rec ...
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