The Golden Ritual
The air in the Great Hall of St. Aldhelm’s Academy did not smell of dust, as one might expect of a place built to hold the dead weight of centuries, but of wet wool, cold stone, and the faint, metallic tang of old blood that had long since dried into the mortar. It was a scent that clung to the back of the throat, persistent and damp, reminding every scholar who walked those corridors that they...
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