The Pale Garden

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2026-08-19 05:09:46 -

The Pale Garden

The letter had arrived three days prior, its envelope stained with the dark, rust-colored residue of the earth from which it had been dug up, a physical testament to the slow, grinding decay that was currently consuming Elias Thorne’s lungs. He sat now in the back of the horse-drawn carriage, the wood groaning under the weight of the autumn rain that drummed against the roof with a rhythmic,...

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