The Pale Fracture

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2026-08-18 13:45:51 -

The Pale Fracture

The feast was a wound in the dark. Candles burned low. Shadows stretched. The air smelled of wax and old blood. Miles sat at the end of the table. His hands were still. They were pale. They looked like roots. Above him hung the Great Seal. It was a circle of iron. It was bound to the stone wall. It was the path. It was the boundary. It was the only thing that held the room together. Miles...

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