The Pale Banner
The linen did not rustle. It hummed. Elias Thorne pressed his thumb against the coarse weave of the Pale Banner, a relic from the St. Jude’s Institute’s lower archives, and the sound began. It was not a word, not at first. It was a low, thrumming vibration that traveled up the bone of his hand and settled in the hollow of his throat. Then came the voice. *Elias.* It was soft, wet with the sound...
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