The Faded Guest
The feast in the refectory of the Abbey of St. Jude was not a celebration of joy but a ritual of consumption, a grotesque inversion of the Eucharist where the monks ate their silence and drank their complicity, the air thick with the scent of stale wine and the damp, mineral smell of the scriptorium that lay just beyond the heavy oak doors. Elias Thorne sat at the lowest end of the long table,...
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