The Faded Guest
The jar was cracked. You knew it before you touched it, a hairline fracture running from the lip to the base, invisible to the casual eye but screaming to the touch. It sat on the workbench in the basement of the clock tower, a vessel of thick, green glass, filled with water and a single, suspended lotus petal. It was an object of minor administrative importance, a relic of the Guild’s old...
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