The Pale Tower
The gate of the Iron Keep stood open, a black mouth swallowing the morning fog, and Elias Thorne did not look back. He walked with the heavy, rhythmic step of a man who has carried his own guilt for so long that it has become the sole weight he trusts. Behind him, the world was a blur of grey stone and wet cobblestones, but ahead lay the pale tower, a needle of white limestone piercing the...
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