The Pale Echo

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2026-08-19 21:38:42 -

The Pale Echo

The rain did not fall upon the Spire so much as it was exhaled by the sky, a persistent, gray mist that clung to the stone like a lover refusing to part. In the highest chamber of the keep, a room where the air tasted of damp wool and old wax, Elias Thorne sat before a table carved from a single, pale oak. He was not a man who sought comfort, nor one who feared the cold, but he possessed a...

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