The Pale Mist
Act I The record had to be set straight, or so the men in the high offices of the Shogunate claimed, a bureaucratic necessity that felt to Hiroshi Nakagawa less like law and more like a slow, suffocating weight pressing against his sternum as he stood before the fractured stone boundary of the sealed monastery. It was the year 1342, and the rain had been falling sideways for a week, turning the...
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