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... is a weapon. Point it carefully."
***
The candles in Room 247 had burned down to stubs. Wax pooled on the wooden desk like it was trying to escape. Shadows moved across the stone walls, and my modest chamber looked less like a dormitory and more like the lair of someone planning crimes.
Which, fair.
Parchments covered nearly every surface. Diagrams. Notes. The kind of obsessive documentation that would make any investigating officer very concerned about my mental ...
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