The Faded Guest
Elias. The name was not called with affection, but with the sharp, clipped precision of a summons, cutting through the low hum of the banquet hall where the crystal glasses caught the gaslight and fractured it into cold, sharp shards on the polished floor. He stood at the center of the room, a twelve-year-old boy in a uniform that had been mended so many times the fabric had turned the color of...
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