The Faded Guest

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 08:43:01 -

The Faded Guest

The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the manor, a relentless, hollow percussion. I stood in the center of the great hall, my hands raised. The air was thick with the scent of wet stone and old iron. I was not a man, though I wore the shape of one. I was a shadow given weight, a whisper given voice. In my palms, I held a shard of glass. It was blue, deep...

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