The Wistful Silence

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 16:59:37 -

The great hall of the Abbey of St. Jude was warm. It smelled of roasted lamb, stale ale, and the sharp, metallic tang of fear. Candlelight flickered against stone walls so old they had forgotten the shape of the world outside. At the head of the long oak table sat the Abbot, a man whose face was a map of deep, unyielding lines. He did not eat. He watched. His eyes were the color of wet slate....

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