The Pale Door

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2026-08-24 06:39:17 -

The Pale Door

The white oak handle was cold, a pale sliver of wood that Elias Thorne held like a dagger. It was the only thing in the banquet hall that did not tremble under the weight of the fog. Outside, the mist pressed against the stained glass, thick and grey, erasing the world beyond the estate walls. Elias stood at the head of the long table, his hand white-knuckled around the relic, waiting for the...

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