The Pale Path

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 23:43:18 -

The Pale Path

The rain fell in sheets. It hit the cobblestones. It hissed. It pooled. It ran. It was cold. It was sharp. It did not stop. The city was old. The streets were narrow. The air was thick. It smelled of wet stone. It smelled of iron. It smelled of decay. It smelled of power. Silas stood in the square. He held the staff. The wood was pale. It was ash. It was smooth. It was warm. It was alive. It...

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