The Pale Garden

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2026-08-18 21:01:35 -

The Pale Garden

The banquet hall of the Hollow Spire did not smell of food, but of ozone and old blood. It was a place suspended in the amber glow of a sun that had long since set, where the chandeliers were not made of crystal, but of calcified bone and spun glass that sang in frequencies only the dead could hear. Sir Alistair Thorne sat at the head of a table long enough to span the length of a cathedral...

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