The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-21 18:53:54 -

The Pale Meridian

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, grey mist that clung to the iron spires of the New Aethelgard Spire and seeped into the marrow of every man who stood upon its obsidian floors. Elias Thorne adjusted the heavy brass collar of his uniform, the metal cold against the sweat on his neck, and watched his wife, Sarah, pack a small leather valise in the corner of the command...

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