The Faded Root
The dropper hovered over the glass vial, the amber liquid trembling on the tip like a held breath. Elias did not blink. His hands, stained with the residue of valerian root and dried yarrow, were steady, but his mind was a churn of static. In the corner of the room, Silas watched. Silas did not look at the vial; he looked at the door, then at the ledger on the desk, then back at Elias. The...
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