The Pale Circus

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2026-08-20 03:53:34 -

The Pale Circus

The hall was thick with the scent of beeswax and old wood. Candles flickered in the brass sconces, casting long, trembling shadows against the high ceiling. The air was warm, suffocating, heavy with the perfume of lilies that lined the mantelpiece. At the center of the room stood a table, long and polished to a mirror sheen. On it lay a single object. It was a bird. Not a real one. Not quite a...

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