The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-19 00:51:59 -

The Pale Meridian

The frost on the windowpane has not melted, though the hearth burns with a dull, persistent hunger. You stand before it, watching the ice crystals bloom and die in the glass, a pattern as rigid and final as the law that governs this hall. The air smells of wet wool and old stone, a scent that has seeped into your bones over the last three years of exile within these walls. You are not a...

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