The Faded Attic
The hall was a throat. It swallowed the light. It swallowed the sound. Elias stood at the edge of the dais. He was not a guest. He was not a king. He was a thing. A vessel. A hollowed-out man from a place that no longer existed on the map. He held the chalice. It was heavy. It was cold. It was black. It was not glass. It was not stone. It was bone. "Drink," said the Voice. The Voice did not...
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