There are not Twelve Hours. There have always been Thirteen.
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These are pages that have to do with the lore of This Game of Hours
This Hour governs alienation, isolation, and loneliness. It speaks in a slithering whisper, relentless in its quiet. It is usually represented by dialogue written in sub-script.
Once, and still in some places today, the progression of life was measured by the world itself. The appearance of flowers, animals, the bend of rivers,…