The Faded Ruin

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2026-08-21 17:36:20 -

The Faded Ruin

The air in the Hall of Echoes tasted of copper and stale smoke. It was a banquet, they called it. A celebration of the Quota. The tables stretched out like long, scarred tongues, draped in white cloth that had seen better decades. The chandeliers above flickered, their light a sickly yellow that did not warm the hands of those who held their crystal goblets. Silas sat at the head of the table....

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