The Wistful Silence

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2026-08-19 01:02:23 -

The air in the Abbey of Saint Jude tasted of damp stone and old dust. It was a thick, grey silence that pressed against the eardrums. Elara stood in the center of the cloister. Her hands were bound by ropes of coarse hemp. They were tight against her wrists. She did not struggle. She had learned long ago that struggle only drew the gaze of the keepers. Brother Thomas stood before her. He was a...

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