The Pale Fracture
You wake in the blue dark of the dormitory, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and old iron, and you are not sure if you are a man or a dream, but the weight of the sword belt across your hip is so heavy, so undeniably real, that you know you have returned to the body you thought you had shed, and the silence of the watchroom is broken only by the rhythmic dripping of condensation from...
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