The Faded Paradox
The silence in the Hall of Whispers was not empty but heavy, a physical weight that pressed against the back of my skull and settled deep into the marrow of my bones as I stood alone in the center of the vast, circular chamber, staring down at the small, unassuming object that lay upon the velvet cushion at the foot of the throne. It was a simple glass vial, no larger than a child’s thumb,...
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