The Distant Ghost

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2026-08-24 09:29:12 -

The Distant Ghost

The Abbot smiled as he held the vial of dried moonwort between his thumb and forefinger, the herb crumbling into a fine, grey dust that drifted onto the stone floor like ash. "You are too young for this, Thomas," he said, his voice soft and heavy with a pity that felt less like care and more like a weight pressed against your chest. "The White Salve is not for children, nor for the poor. It is...

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