The Faded Shield
The great oak at the center of the Royal Conservatory’s atrium had not merely died; it had been unmade, its heartwood splintering into a thousand jagged shards that fell like a silent, green-tinted rain upon the polished marble floors where the students of the old guard had once learned to listen to the wind in the leaves, a catastrophe that arrived not with a storm but with a slow, inevitable...
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