Crimson Codex (слэш)

A station of iron and steam.
An echo meets the original and learns how to end.
A knit cap rides north and does not come back down.
In a school that prefers to be exalted, a boy practices the Temple’s oldest courtesy: be correct, be dull, be everywhere during the moment it mattered. He chooses the serpent’s bench, writes in green, but keeps red behind his ear or braided flat when fire is near.
The year arranges itself like a ledger written in a careful hand: entries of breath, shadows that return a different length, doors that like statements, a corridor that refuses drama if you thank it. A scholar who stammers in daylight smells wrong in silence. Keys forget to fly. A chessboard decides not to move. A mirror tells the truth no one should live in. Somewhere above the third stair, stone pays attention to the time you choose.
Nothing loud happens until it has to. The prize everyone names in legend never stands on a stage. It changes owners by procedure and goes where fire is kinder than greed.