The Pale Tale
The mud was thick. It sucked at our boots. It pulled at our ankles. It wanted to keep us. We walked. We always walked. The road was not a road. It was a scar in the earth. It ran straight into the dark. The trees on either side were tall. They stood like sentinels. They did not move. They did not care. We moved. We were small. We were many. "Keep up, boy," the Guard said. His voice was flat. It...
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