The Pale Circus

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2026-08-17 12:13:48 -

The Pale Circus

The rain had been falling on the cobblestones of Bristol for three days, turning the air into a grey slurry that clung to the wool of their coats and seeped into the bones. Elias Thorne stood in the doorway of his apothecary shop, watching the street empty out as the evening mist rolled in from the harbor. His hands, usually steady when grinding mortar and pestle or mixing tinctures, trembled...

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