The Pale Shadows
The tower was not built of stone, but of silence, and it stood in the center of a room that had no walls, only the humming vibration of the air itself. I held the key in my left hand, the metal cold and heavy, a thing I had carried for forty years. My name was Elias, and I was the Keeper of the Threshold, a title that sounded grander than the reality of standing in a void, waiting for the world...
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