The Pale Echo
The Great Hall of the Pale Kingdom was not silent, but it was not loud; it hummed, a low, tectonic vibration that rose from the stone floor and settled in the teeth of every soul present. Alaric Vane stood at the center of the chamber, his hands steady on the pedestal where the first prototype of the Royal Prism sat, a geometric marvel of clear silica and lead crystal. He was forty years old, a...
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