The Pale Tower
The train slows as it approaches the station, a grinding of metal on metal that sounds like a bone breaking under a weight it was never meant to bear. You step out into the damp gray air of a town that does not appear on the maps you remember, a place where the fog clings to the eaves of the houses like a shroud refusing to let go. You are holding it in your hands, wrapped in a cloth that has...
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