The Pale Fracture

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2026-08-17 22:01:22 -

The Pale Fracture

The watchtower was cold. The wind cut through my wool. I checked my stance. Feet apart. Center low. "Posture, soldier," the voice crackled. "Shoulders down." I kept my eyes on the horizon. The grass moved. It was silver. It was endless. It did not stop. It did not yield. I breathed in. The air tasted of iron and ash. I breathed out. The Order had taken the valley. The Order had taken the sky....

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