The Pale Tower

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2026-08-18 02:53:36 -

The Pale Tower

The rain did not fall so much as it insisted, a cold, grey needle stitching the sky to the cobblestones of New Harrow. I stood at the edge of the platform, the iron lattice of the train car rattling like a cage of starving birds. Beside me, Elias Thorne adjusted his collar, the white linen stark against his soot-stained face. He looked at me, and in his eyes, I saw the reflection of a man who...

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