The Faded Root

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2026-08-24 03:32:59 -

The Faded Root

The quill bit into the parchment, the tip stiff with dried beetle-ink, and Margaret Holloway felt the cold seep through the sole of her boot as she pressed her foot against the obsidian floor to steady the table. The stone was not cold, exactly, but it possessed a dampness that seemed to draw the heat from her skin, a persistent chill that had nothing to do with the cellar’s temperature and...

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