Whispers from the Grimoire

The aged grimoire lay open upon the rustic stone altar, its brittle pages whispering tales of forgotten magic. A dank scent hung in the air, mingled with the aroma of sandalwood. As I traced symbols etched upon its surface, a shiver swept down my spine. The grimoire was vibrant, a conduit to realms elsewhere.{ Fantasies flickered across its page

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