The Faded Quadrant
The air in the undercroft was thick, tasting of damp stone and old iron. Silas did not blink. He kept his eyes fixed on the wall, where the moss grew in a slow, creeping tide. The light from the single tallow candle flickered, casting long, wavering shadows that danced like restless spirits. He was alone. This was the rule. The rule was the only thing that remained when the world above had...
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