The Pale Verdict
The feast is loud. It is too loud. The noise hits you in the chest. You are sitting at the long table. The table is oak. It is old. It is dark. The candles burn low. The wax drips. It looks like blood. It looks like tears. You do not care. You are cold. You are so cold. Your sister, Elara, sits across from you. She is beautiful. She is bright. She is alive. She is eating. She laughs. The sound...
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