The Faded Masquerade
The fog did not roll in so much as it exhaled, a thick, grey breath that swallowed the cobblestones and the iron gates of the estate until the world was reduced to a circle of wet, shivering silence around you, and you stood there, holding the box, feeling the weight of the glass vial inside it press against your palm like a living, beating heart that you had sworn to protect at all costs,...
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