The Pale Fracture
The glass did not break; it remembered how to be whole, and in that terrible, liquid recall, the city of Aethelgard dissolved into a smear of iridescent dust that coated the tongue like ash and honey. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the Plaza of Mirrors, a place that had not existed on any map before the dawn of the current decade, and he watched the architecture of his own guilt shatter...
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