The Pale Tower
You dream of the city before it was paved, when the stones were still breathing and the mist clung to the cobblestones like a lover’s reluctant hand. In this dream, you are not the magistrate’s son, nor the scholar of the old law, but the thing that lives in the shadow of the High Tower. You are the pale wisp that drifts through the keyholes of the Hall of Justice, a creature of breath and...
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