The Pale Letter

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2026-08-21 17:23:48 -

The Pale Letter

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a heavy, grey curtain that smelled of wet ash and iron. I stood in the center of the cobblestone square, my left hand gripping the hilt of a sword that had no business existing in an age of steam and coal, my right hand trembling as it held a letter that was slowly turning to smoke. The crowd around me was silent, a ring of faces blurred by...

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