The Faded Portrait
The ink was still wet when Aldric realized he had signed his own death warrant in the margins of the *Codex Aureum*. He stood in the center of the High Library, a cavernous vaulted space where the air tasted of iron filings and dry rot, the silence so heavy it pressed against his eardrums like deep water. Around him, the shelves stretched upward into shadows that seemed to breathe, lined not...
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