The Faded Root
The hall smells of beeswax and old blood, a thick, cloying scent that coats the back of your throat and makes it difficult to breathe without a sense of suffocating intimacy. You stand in the center of the Great Hall of the University of St. Jude’s, a place where the stone walls are so thick they seem to absorb sound and light alike, leaving only a dull, gray twilight in which the faces of the...
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