The Pale Circus

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2026-08-17 13:29:35 -

The Pale Circus

The air in the Grand Hall tasted of copper and stale lavender. You stood by the heavy velvet curtain, your hand resting on the hilt of a ceremonial sword that had not tasted blood in twenty years, yet felt heavy as a lead coffin against your hip. The chandelier above flickered, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to breathe with a life of their own. This was the palace of the High...

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