The Pale Exile

adicionou um novo artigo Literature

2026-08-17 22:08:50 -

The Pale Exile

The hall was warm. Too warm. The air smelled of roasted meat and old stone. I sat at the end of the long table. My hands were still. They were always still. I watched the candles. They flickered. Shadows danced on the white walls. The King raised his glass. The sound of metal clinking was sharp. It cut through the noise. I did not raise mine. I stared at the table. The wood was dark. It was...

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