The Faded River
The rain had not ceased for three days, a persistent, grey weeping that turned the cobblestones of the old quarter into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the jagged spires of the university towers. Inside the library, the air was thick with the scent of decaying vellum and the sharper, metallic tang of the storm trapped against the high, arched windows. Elias Thorne sat hunched over a lectern, his...
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