The Faded Portrait
The basement of the University of St. Jude smells of damp limestone and the slow, sweet decay of paper, a scent that has settled into the pores of your skin over the last three sleepless nights as you hunch over the table with a magnifying glass, tracing the shifting, impossible coastlines of the map Silas Vane left behind. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, an archivist whose entire...
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