The Faded Masquerade
"Look at it," said Silas. His voice was dry. Like scraped wood. "Look at what you’ve done." Mara didn’t look. She held the shard. It was small. A sliver of black glass. Cold. It cut her thumb. A bead of red. She ignored it. "It’s broken," she said. "Shattered," Silas corrected. "You broke it. The mask. The last one. The one with the name." Mara nodded. Her hands trembled. Not from fear. From...
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