The Pale Bridge
The bridge was not merely a structure of stone and timber, but a living thing, a pale and breathing spine that arched across the chasm where the river of memory flowed with the silent, relentless force of eternity. It was here, in the shadow of the great palace of Aethelgard, that Silas Thorne, the condemned architect, walked the path of his final penance, his feet bare against the cold, slick...
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