The Pale Circus

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2026-08-19 00:10:08 -

The Pale Circus

The road was hard. The rain had stopped. The sky was grey. A heavy, wet grey. It sat low over the hills. It pressed against the earth. Elias walked. His boots were old. They leaked. The cold seeped in. He did not care. He carried a staff. It was made of ash wood. It was smooth. It was worn by his hands. He had held it for years. He had held it until the wood knew his touch. He was a scholar. Or...

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