The Faded Masquerade
The glass butterfly in your hand is cold, its wings fractured into a jagged mosaic that catches the dim light of the room. It is the only thing you have kept from the house on Miller’s Lane, a relic of a childhood that now feels like a dream from a different life. You are Elias, thirty-two, a wandering knight whose armor is rusted and whose sword is dull, standing in the center of Oakhaven as...
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