The Pale Circus
The glass shattered not with a bang, but with a sigh, a long, exhaled sound that seemed to pull the air out of the room and into the shards. It was a fine, intricate destruction, the way a spiderweb unravels when touched by a careless finger, and Elara watched it fall, her eyes wide, her lips parted in a silence that was louder than the crash. The object had been a sphere, or perhaps a prism,...
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