The Faded Root
The feast was held in the hollow of a tree that had long since ceased to be a tree. It was a structure of rot and moss, a cathedral built by neglect, where the light filtered through in sickly green shafts. Marguerite sat at the head of the table, which was actually a flat stone slab covered in a tattered cloth. She was eating. Or rather, she was performing the act of eating, shoveling chunks...
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