The Pale Meridian

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2026-08-23 08:59:52 -

The Pale Meridian

The silver chalice was heavy in Elias Thorne’s hands, the weight of it pulling his arms down toward his waist. He stood in the center of the Great Hall, surrounded by the smoke of a hundred tallow candles and the thick, fatty smell of roasted boar. The King sat on the high dais, his face a pale mask above the fur of his ermine cloak. Elias had walked this path for three days, through the muddy...

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