The Pale Garden

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2026-08-24 08:50:11 -

The Pale Garden

The glass was counted in threes. Three shards of cobalt, three of amber, three of the pale, milky white that Elias Thorne could no longer see clearly through. He sat on the stool in the workshop, the wood cold against his thighs, and watched his own hands. They were not still. They had not been still since the fever broke three days prior, a shaking that started in the knuckles and traveled up...

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