The Pale Shadows
The iron gate of Blackwood Manor did not creak when Cael pushed it open. It swung wide, silent as a held breath, revealing the long, gravel drive that led to the house standing like a gray tooth in the mouth of the valley. It was a time before clocks had tickers, when the light itself seemed to move slower, heavier, pooling in the corners of the world. Cael was twelve, a boy of sharp elbows and...
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