The Pale Exile

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2026-08-23 20:02:55 -

The Pale Exile

The champagne flutes clinked with a sound like shattering glass, a bright, brittle noise that cut through the low hum of the banquet. Clara Vane stood at the center of the mahogany table, the crystal of her father’s pocket watch trembling in her white-knuckled grip. The liquid inside the watch face was gone, replaced by a jagged web of cracks that distorted the golden numerals beneath. She was...

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