The Pale Tower
The tower did not stand upon the earth, but suspended in the amber haze of a sky that had forgotten how to darken, a spire of pale bone rising from a sea of mist that smelled of crushed violets and old iron. Elias Vane, once a captain of the guard in a kingdom whose borders were drawn in ink and blood, now sat upon a ledge of cloud-stuff, his armor polished to a mirror shine that reflected a...
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