The Pale Tower
Elias Thorne woke with the taste of chalk dust on his tongue, the phantom weight of a stone wall pressing against his eyelids. It was the dream again, the pale tower rising through the fog, its windows dark and unyielding, a monument to a silence he had spent twenty years cultivating. He lay still in the narrow bed of his staff quarters, listening to the hum of the ventilation system, a sound...
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