The Pale Fracture
The rain in the valley of Aethelgard did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended grey veil that choked the light and turned the cobblestones into slick, black mirrors reflecting a sky that had long since forgotten the sun. It was a day for endings, the kind of quiet, suffocating stillness that precedes the collapse of a world, and Elias Vane stood on the threshold of his study, watching the...
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