The Pale Door
The sky did not fall; it cracked. I remember the sound before the light, a deep, resonant groan that seemed to come from the marrow of the earth itself, a sound like a giant bone snapping under the weight of an invisible hand. We were standing on the ramparts of Aethelgard, the great stone keep that had stood for three hundred years without a single hair on its head, and I watched as the...
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