The Faded Guest
The abbot’s refusal was quiet, but it hit the floor like a stone. "You cannot bind the dead, Sister Elara," Abbot Thomas said, his voice dry as the dust in the scriptorium. "Canon is clear. The soul is with God or with the Devil. It is not here. It is not yours to keep." You stood in the doorway, the morning light cutting through the high windows and pooling on the flagstones. It was 1348. The...
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