The Pale Garden

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2026-08-23 06:16:24 -

The Pale Garden

The porcelain mirror in Elara Vance’s hands was cold, colder than the damp air of the conservatory, its surface cracked in a jagged spiderweb that seemed to pulse with a faint, sickly yellow light. She held it up, her knuckles white, and watched her own face appear in the glass, but the reflection lagged, a half-second behind her movement, the eyes in the mirror drifting slowly to the left...

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