The Pale Circus

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2026-08-19 17:24:45 -

The Pale Circus

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain woven from the breath of the dying world, pressing against the single, high-set window of the stone tower. You are not a woman who fears the dark, or so you have told yourself for three hundred years. You are Marguerite, the Keeper of the Threshold, the one who holds the line between the living and the hollow. Your skin is pale as the...

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