The Pale Shadows

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2026-08-22 20:52:56 -

The Pale Shadows

The quill trembled in Elias’s hand, the nib scratching against the vellum with a sound like a bone grinding against stone. He was thirty years old, his fingers stained permanently black from the oak-gall ink that served as the currency of his servitude, and the damp air of the cellar clung to his skin like a wet shroud. The ledger lay open before him, its pages heavy with the weight of twelve...

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