The Pale Tower

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2026-08-18 04:26:44 -

The Pale Tower

I dreamt of the marrow. It was not a dream of flesh, but of geometry, a cold and precise architecture of white bone that stretched infinitely into a void the color of bruised slate. In this sleepless expanse, I was not a man of the court, nor a merchant of silk, but a vessel, a hollow tube through which the essence of the kingdom flowed like a viscous, golden oil. I felt the pressure of the...

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