The Pale Circus
I woke in the suffocating dark of the trench, the smell of wet earth and old blood thick in my throat, only to find myself standing on a cobblestone street in a city that did not exist on any map I had memorized. The air here was not cold; it was humid, heavy with the scent of roasted almonds and burning tallow, a cloying sweetness that coated the back of my tongue like varnish. I wore my...
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