The Faded Ruin
The iron taste of the air is the first thing you notice, a metallic tang that coats the back of your throat and settles in the pit of your stomach, heavy as a swallowed stone. You are standing in the center of the Great Hall, a vast, circular chamber carved from living obsidian, where the light does not come from the sun but from the slow, rhythmic pulsing of veins of crystal embedded in the...
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