The Faded Guest
The gears in the Great Hall’s chime mechanism refused to turn. Elias Thorne pressed his thumb against the brass, feeling the cold metal bite into the skin, but the resistance was not friction; it was a pulse. It was a rhythmic, arrhythmic grinding that mirrored the final, stuttering beats of his father’s heart three years prior. The deadline for the restoration was the first of November. The...
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