The Wistful Voyage
You dream of water, but it is thick, gray, and tastes of iron. In the dream, you are standing in the nave of the Abbey of St. Jude, but the pews are gone, replaced by a sea of vellum that laps against your ankles, cold and slick. You try to speak, to call out to the Abbot, but your mouth is full of dust, and the sound that comes out is not a voice but a low, vibrating hum that shakes the...
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