The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-18 06:56:18 -

The Pale Bridge

The rain did not fall so much as it existed, a dense, gray curtain that hung between the stone walls of the tower and the sky, erasing the horizon and leaving only the immediate, dripping reality of the damp flagstones beneath my feet. I was twelve years old, or perhaps thirteen, though in the suspended time of the Keep, age had become a fluid thing, measured not in years but in the slow...

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