The Pale Verdict
The table groaned under the weight of the feast. Elias Vane, forty years old and leaning heavily on his staff, watched the candlelight tremble across the faces of the village elders. He had spent three years brewing the moon-lily extract, believing it would cure the wasting sickness that had taken the mayor’s son’s brother. Now, with the boy’s skin flushed and his breath steady, Elias sought...
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