The Pale Door

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2026-08-18 04:26:49 -

The Pale Door

The wool of my coat was heavy with the damp of the moor, a dense, matted fabric that smelled of wet stone and old blood, and I pulled it tighter around my shoulders as the wind tore through the hollow, seeking a warmth that had long since abandoned my bones. I was the last of the Seekers, the final steward of a duty so ancient it predated the stone circles themselves, and I carried with me a...

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