The Pale Dance

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2026-08-22 23:11:24 -

The Pale Dance

The letter lay on the oak table, its seal broken, the ink still wet with the dampness of the room. Elias Thorne read the dismissal order twice, then set it down beside the silver ceremonial dagger. The blade was cold. It was always cold. He had polished it for twenty years, from the age of twelve until now, and the metal never once warmed to the touch of his skin. It sat there, a mirror of his...

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