The Faded Masquerade

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2026-08-24 13:47:01 -

The dream was always the same, a grinding of wood against wood, until Elias Vane woke with the taste of iron in his mouth and the phantom weight of his daughter’s face carved into the grain of an oak table that no longer existed. He was forty years old, and his hands, which had once moved with the precision of a surgeon’s, now trembled with a violent, rhythmic shake that made the quill in his...

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