The Pale Door
The door was pale, the color of old bone, and it stood in the center of the vast, echoing hall of the Guild of Iron and Wood, a monument to the silence that followed the departure of my brother, Thomas. I had come to say goodbye to him, to witness the final act of his trade, and I stood in the shadows of the colonnade, my hands clenched so tightly that the knuckles whitened against the rough...
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