The Pale Tower

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2026-08-18 12:18:12 -

The Pale Tower

The banquet was not of food, but of noise. It swelled in the great hall of the textile mill, a cacophony of clinking glass and forced laughter that vibrated against the ribcage like a trapped bird. I stood at the periphery, holding a glass of sherry I did not wish to drink, watching the steam rise from the vents in the floor. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of coal smoke and damp wool....

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