The Faded Root

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2026-08-19 07:02:33 -

The Faded Root

The bell tolls for the dead. It tolls for the living. It tolls for the tree that is no longer there. I stand on the cobblestones of St. Jude’s Square, my boots heavy with the mud of centuries. The rain is cold. It seeps into my wool. It soaks my bones. I do not shiver. I have forgotten how. "Are you coming, Sergeant?" The voice is soft. It is the voice of Thomas. He stands by the gate. His face...

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