The Pale Garden
The rain in the district of Oakhaven did not fall so much as it descended, a heavy, grey curtain that erased the distinction between the cobblestones and the sky, turning the city into a single, dripping organism of stone and shadow, where the air tasted of wet iron and the memory of old, unburied sins. Elias Thorne stood at the threshold of his shop, a narrow establishment wedged between a...
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