The Pale Tale
The dampness of the dormitory room settled into the bones of Elias Thorne’s son, a cold that seemed to radiate from the very walls, and Elias sat on the edge of the narrow cot, his fingers wrapped tightly around a small, unmarked glass vial that felt heavy in his palm despite its lightness, the liquid inside sloshing with a dull, viscous silence. It was the tonic, the promised cure for the...
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