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Marrow and Marigold

fantasy◐ Mature
5 contributors · 3 paragraphs deep

Veska held the silent rib to the candle and looked closer. A thin gray line was painted along the bone, almost too faint to see. She had never seen such a mark. Someone had touched this rib before it was buried and hidden how this person really died. She decided to find out who the body had belonged to.

Veska scraped a little of the gray line onto a cloth and tasted it, the way her old teacher had shown her. Bitter, with a strange sweetness underneath. She knew that taste. It was marigold ash, the same flower she planted over her own dead. Someone was using her own flowers to hide their murders.

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