The Faded Sutra
The button was gone. I knew it was gone before I touched the lapel of my great coat, that heavy, charcoal wool thing I had worn since the days when the mills still breathed smoke into the grey sky of Millhaven. It was a small absence. A void in the fabric where a black, glass eye should have stared out at the world. I stood in the hallway of the old manor house, the air thick with the scent of...
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