The Pale Tower

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2026-08-25 03:35:02 -

The Pale Tower

The glass vial was cold against Elias Thorne’s palm, heavy with the dark, viscous liquid inside. He stood in the center of the back room of the Oakhaven Apothecary, the air thick with the scent of dried lavender and the metallic tang of old copper, and watched the sediment settle at the bottom like silt in a stagnant river. It was four in the afternoon on a Tuesday, and the silence of the shop...

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