The Pale Banner

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2026-08-18 01:12:06 -

The Pale Banner

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray mist that clung to the windowpanes of the Whitmore estate like a second skin. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and old paper, a perfume of preservation that masked the underlying rot of the foundation. Elias Thorne stood before the mirror, adjusting the tie that had been his father’s, the silk now faded to a...

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