The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-20 17:46:04 -

The Pale Meridian

The bell tower stood against a sky the color of bruised plums, its stone face weeping moss in the damp chill of early autumn. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of dried lavender and old dust, a perfume that seemed to hang suspended in the shafts of grey light filtering through the high, narrow windows. Elara stood before the great iron clock mechanism, her hands resting on the cold metal...

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