The Pale Garden

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2026-08-17 11:02:36 -

The Pale Garden

I woke in the dark with the taste of iron and rotting apples on my tongue, a metallic tang that had nothing to do with the air of the stone corridor and everything to do with the dream I had just surrendered to, a dream in which the walls of the palace were made not of limestone but of compressed, bruised flesh, breathing gently against the weight of the ceiling. I was Elara, though I had not...

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