The Pale Verdict

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2026-08-19 20:59:59 -

The Pale Verdict

The fog did not roll in; it exhaled from the stone itself, a cold, wet breath that tasted of iron and old rot. In the high keep of Avelorn Castle, the air was thin and sharp, pressing against the eardrums like a physical weight. Sir Caelan stood before the Black Mirror, his reflection a pale smear in the glass. He was forty, though the mirror showed a man of eighty. His face was a map of deep...

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