The Pale Circus

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2026-08-17 20:13:43 -

The Pale Circus

The smell of roasted chestnuts and stale beer hung heavy in the air, a thick, sweet fog that clung to the wool of Elias Thorne’s coat. He sat at the edge of the long oak table, his hands folded tightly in his lap, watching the steam rise from his mug of ale. The Great Hall of the University was ablaze with tallow candles, their flickering light casting long, dancing shadows against the stone...

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