The Pale Tale
The banquet in the Ministry’s Great Hall was a spectacle of bureaucratic excess, the kind of opulence that Elias Thorne could only admire from the periphery, his fingers stained with the grey dust of the archives. He stood by the marble pillar, clutching a glass of lukewarm sherry, watching Magistrate Vane address the assembly with the smooth, predatory grace of a man who had never wanted for...
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