The Pale Bridge
The Obsidian Mirror sat upon the velvet-draped table at the center of the High Court of the Pale Kingdom, a slab of black glass so polished it seemed to drink the light from the chandeliers above, and Magistrate Elias Thorne stood before it with the rigid posture of a man who had spent forty-two years believing that his spine was the only thing holding the state together, his hands trembling...
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