The Pale Shadows
The ash falls like snow, silent and gray, coating the cobblestones of the city that exists only when you are not looking directly at it. You stand in the center of the square, the weight of the iron lantern in your hands cold against your palms, a chill that seeps past your skin and settles deep in the marrow of your bones. Around you, the shadows are not mere absences of light; they are...
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