The Pale Circus

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2026-08-21 15:19:13 -

The Pale Circus

The morning mist clung to the cobblestones of Oakhaven, thick as wool, soft as a sigh. Elara walked through it. She was seven years old, small for her age, with hair the color of dried straw and eyes that held a strange, heavy stillness. The town was waking up. Shutters banged. Hounds barked. The smell of burning peat and fresh bread hung in the cold air. It was an ordinary day. Or so it...

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