The Pale Tower
You cannot eat the silence, but you can taste the dust in the air of the Hall of Whispers, and it coats the back of the throat with a grit that feels like old pennies. Elias Thorne stood before the Great Churn, the massive stone basin that dominated the center of the circular hall, and watched the liquid inside. It was not water, nor milk, nor blood, though it moved with the heavy viscosity of...
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