The Pale Tower
The morning light in the Great Hall of Ashworth Manor was thin and gray, filtering through the high, narrow windows that looked out over the mist-choked valley. Elias stood by the heavy oak table, his hands resting on the cool surface, where the Pale Tower sat in its velvet-lined box. It was a shard of crystal, no larger than a man’s thumb, yet it seemed to hold the weight of the entire estate,...
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