The Pale Banner
The rain against the window of my office at the university was not merely weather but a persistent, rhythmic accusation, a drumming that seemed to come from inside the walls rather than the sky, and I sat there with the heavy, leather-bound volume of the *Codex Umbra* open before me, its pages yellowed and brittle as the skin of a corpse, feeling the weight of the years that had accumulated in...
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