The Faded Apartment
The stone of the tower did not merely enclose Elara; it consumed her. For three hundred years, she had been the mortar, the dust, the silent binding agent between the rough-hewn blocks of Blackthorn Keep. She was not a ghost in the traditional sense, hovering and wailing. She was the keep itself. Her consciousness was distributed across every crack, every chipped lintel, and every cold draft...
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