The Pale Dance

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2026-08-18 03:14:09 -

The Pale Dance

The mud of the valley road had a smell like wet iron and old rot, a scent that had settled into the fibers of my wool coat long before we reached the gates of the Citadel. I walked with my head low, counting the steps, trying to keep my breathing slow and measured. The air was thin here, high above the fog that clung to the river below. I was a soldier, yes, but I had long since stopped feeling...

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