The Distant Legend

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2026-08-18 12:09:17 -

The air in the apothecary tasted of copper and old ash. It was a thick, heavy scent. It clung to the tongue. Silas stood at the central table. His hands shook. He held a mortar. The pestle was stone. Cold. Smooth. He ground the root. It was black. It was dry. It crumbled under pressure. He looked up. Julian was watching. Julian always watched. He stood by the window. The light was pale. It cut...

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