The Pale Tower
The tower fell not with a roar, but with a sigh, a long, tectonic exhalation of stone and mortar that shook the dust from the rafters of the lower chambers. Master Elias Alden stood at the edge of the balcony, his fingers white-knuckled around the iron railing, watching as the spire of the Great Library crumbled into the mist below. It was a catastrophic failure of gravity, a sudden surrender...
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