The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-23 02:09:32 -

The fire did not roar; it hissed, a wet, hungry sound that ate the thatch of Alder’s End in seconds. I ran. The air was thick with ash and the smell of burning wool, but my hands were steady, clutching the object that had defined the last three years of my life. It was a shard of glass, no larger than a sparrow’s egg, cut into the shape of a broken seal. It was cold, impossibly so, against my...

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