The Pale Verdict
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, gray sheet that turned the cobblestones of Oakhaven into slick, reflective mirrors, so that every person walking the main street seemed to be treading upon a dark, inverted sky. It was in this damp, muted light that Elias Thorne, the town’s oldest cartographer and keeper of its forgotten histories, sat in the back of the library, his hands...
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