The Faded River
The bell in the tower of St. Jude’s had not rung in forty years, but I could still hear it in my teeth. A low, grinding vibration that lived in the bone. I stood at the edge of the stone courtyard, watching the rain slick the cobblestones until they looked like dark glass. My hands were empty, but they felt heavy. I was carrying a silence that weighed more than the iron gates behind me. "Master...
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