The Pale Shadows
You stand in the library, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and the slow, sweet decay of old paper, and you tell yourself that the shadows are merely a trick of the candlelight, a fleeting distortion caused by the humidity that has been creeping into the stone walls of the manor since the rain began to fall three days ago. You are a scholar, a man who has spent his life cataloging the...
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