The Pale Banner
The glass shattered not with a bang, but with a wet, heavy crunch, like an old man’s hip giving way under the weight of a bad night. I was holding it. That is the first thing you need to understand. I, Silas Vane, a man who has spent forty years in the quiet, dusty trade of restorative apothecary, was holding the vial of *Lumen Aeternum* as it burst against my palm. The liquid inside was not...
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