The Pale Circus
The mist in the highlands did not lift; it thickened, a grey wool that swallowed the horizon and the road in equal measure. I was Elias Thorne, a Royal Ranger of thirty-two years, and I had a duty that felt less like service and more like a slow strangulation. My charge was Elara, a girl of perhaps sixteen who moved through the world with a spectral quietness, her skin pale as the bone of a...
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