Today, there’s a black spot where the chateau should stand, and Grandfather’s fingers lay scattered among the yew. That’s why I’m dropping Alchemy class.
Father used to tell me that upon a wooded mount, deep within a flood of Irish yew, in a small chateau lives the Master of Alchemy, whose quick hands and formidable wit could cast darkness over the world for a thousand years.
The prompt for Chimera 66 challenge #3 this week is:
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