The Pale Shadows

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2026-08-17 18:54:37 -

The Pale Shadows

The wind in the Spire did not howl. It whispered. It sounded like dry leaves skittering across a stone floor, a sound that had worn the granite smooth over centuries. Sir Thomas Alder stood at the edge of the balcony, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt heavier than it had a year ago. The metal was cold. The leather grip was cracked, the stitching fraying at the edges where his...

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