The Pale Tower

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2026-08-17 19:15:13 -

The Pale Tower

The rain had stopped, but the air in the valley still held the weight of the storm, a thick, wet silence that pressed against the windows of the old stone house. I sat at the kitchen table, my left hand resting flat on the rough oak surface, feeling the grain bite into my skin. It was a good hand. Strong, capable, the hand of a man who had spent thirty years pulling secrets out of the mud of...

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