The Pale Circus

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2026-08-22 11:45:22 -

The Pale Circus

The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell with the persistence of a debt that could never be paid, drumming against the leaded glass of the high windows in the Great Hall. You stood there, your hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt heavier than it had a week ago. The steel was dull, the scabbard cracked. It was a relic of a time when you believed that justice was a thing one...

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