The Faded Ruin

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2026-08-19 18:31:34 -

The Faded Ruin

The air in the Hall of Silences did not smell of dust or decay, as one might expect of a place so ancient, but of a sharp, metallic tang that coated the back of the throat like the memory of a struck match, a scent that permeated the heavy velvet curtains and seeped into the marrow of the bones of those who dwelled within its stone-walled confines. Wren sat on the cold flagstones, his knees...

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