The Pale Exile

ha aggiunto una foto Literature

2026-08-17 12:42:36 -

The Pale Exile

The rain does not fall so much as it hangs, a grey curtain drawn tight across the window of the station platform, blurring the iron lattice of the bridge into a smear of rust and shadow. You stand there, your boots caked in the red clay of the moors, your hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword that is no longer a weapon but a burden. It is a heavy thing, that blade, forged in the old ways...

0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima