The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-19 06:41:18 -

The Pale Meridian

The boundary line did not end, it merely ceased to be visible, dissolving into the thick, wet fog that rolled off the Blackwood Marshes as dawn broke with a pale, sickly light. Arthur Penhaligon stood at the edge of the precipice, his boots sinking into the mud that was less earth and more memory, holding the leather-bound surveyor’s journal in one hand and the cold, unyielding hand of his...

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