The Pale Exile

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2026-08-17 20:10:52 -

The Pale Exile

The mirror was cold. I knew this before I touched it. My hand hovered, trembling, above the glass. It was a tall thing, framed in oak that had warped with age. The wood looked like dried skin. I stood in the center of the room. The room was empty. No, not empty. It was full of dust. The dust settled on the floorboards. It settled on the chair. It settled on my shoulders. I was leaving. That was...

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