The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-21 15:34:18 -

The refectory hummed with the low, droning resonance of a thousand silverware collisions against ceramic, a sound that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of Julian’s bones as he sat at the long oak table, his hands trembling slightly around the handle of his pewter cup. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of boiled turnips, stale beer, and the unwashed wool of the scholars who crowded the...

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