The Pale Echo

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2026-08-20 09:21:07 -

The Pale Echo

The iron key sat heavy in Sir Thomas’s palm, its surface cold and rough against his calloused fingers, a small, cold heart beating with a rhythm that was not quite his own. He stood alone in the center of the Round Table Hall, the stone floor echoing with the silence of centuries, while the fog outside the high arched windows curled into the drafty air like the fingers of ghosts seeking warmth....

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