The Faded Guest
The rain has been falling for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that blurs the edges of the world and softens the sharpness of your hunger into a dull, thrumming ache behind your ribs. You are standing in the center of the room, which is not a room you remember building, nor a room you remember entering, yet the air smells of wet stone and dried lavender, a scent so ancient it feels less...
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