The Pale Garden

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2026-08-24 12:36:57 -

The Pale Garden

Elias. The name was not spoken with warmth, but with the clipped, authoritative precision of a man checking a ledger. Father Thomas stood in the doorway of the scriptorium, his shadow falling across the oak desk where I sat, and I looked up from the vellum, my quill hovering, the ink still wet and dark as a bruise. He did not enter. He stood in the threshold, the candlelight catching the grey...

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