The Pale Garden

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2026-08-24 07:31:59 -

The Pale Garden

The white flowers did not grow in the soil; they grew in the air, a suspension of pale petals drifting around my boots like snow that refused to melt. I am Silas, thirty-two years old, a constable in the fog-choked valley of Oakhaven, and I have spent the last three days walking in circles, trying to convince myself that the blight is merely a fungal spore, a trick of the damp, not the mark of...

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