The Faded Photograph
The air in the Undercroft tasted of copper and old rain, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat and made my teeth ache. I stood alone in the vast, vaulted darkness, the only light source being the faint, pulsing bioluminescence of the moss that clung to the stones like a second skin, a living thing that breathed in the cold silence. My name, I had thought for so many years, was...
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