The Distant Legend
The tea was cold, a dark pool of stillness in the porcelain cup, mirroring the stagnation of your thoughts. You sat in the library of St. Jude’s, a place that no longer existed on any map, yet felt more real than the rain-slicked streets of London outside. The air smelled of damp wool and old paper, a scent that had become indistinguishable from the taste of the tea in your mouth. You were Dr....
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