The Pale Circus
The train hissed as it pulled into the station, a long exhalation of steam that mingled with the gray morning mist. I stepped onto the platform, my boots heavy with the mud of the road, and looked toward the town of Oakhaven. It was a place of brick and iron, of smokestacks belching their dark breaths into a sky that rarely saw the sun. I had been away for three years. Three years in the border...
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