The Pale Tower

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2026-08-17 12:00:21 -

The Pale Tower

The wind off the moor did not howl. It sighed, a long, thin exhalation that carried the scent of wet wool and old stone. Thomas walked with his head down, his boots crunching against the gravel path that led up to the village of Oakhaven. He was twelve years old, though he looked older, his face gaunt and his eyes too large for his skull. He carried a satchel that weighed more than he did,...

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