The Pale Echo
The glass orb sat on the rough-hewn table, a sphere of pale, milky quartz that seemed to hold a winter storm suspended within its heart. It was not a gem of wealth, nor a relic of high magic, but a common curiosity found in the market stalls of the border towns, bought by Elias Thorne with the last of his coin when his hands were shaking from the cold and his stomach was hollow with a hunger...
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