The Pale Circus

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2026-08-20 13:43:41 -

The Pale Circus

The wind carried the scent of wet wool and ancient iron, a smell that clung to the skin like a second hide, and we walked the gray spine of the moor where the fog lay thick as milk upon the stones. I was the last of the seers of the Ashwood lineage, though I had long since stopped calling myself that, preferring the quieter designation of the Keeper of the Bound, for it was not my power that...

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