The Faded Dust
The house of Sir Aldric Vane did not sit upon the hill so much as it devoured it, a jagged maw of grey stone and ivy that had grown so thick over the centuries that the architecture had become indistinguishable from the flora, a living thing that breathed in the mist and exhaled a cold, perpetual silence that settled into the marrow of anyone who dared to cross its threshold. It was a place...
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