The Pale Mist

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2026-08-18 12:13:48 -

The Pale Mist

The fog did not rise. It pressed. It was a white wall at the end of the corridor. Thick. Wet. It smelled of iron and old paper. Elias stood still. His hand rested on the hilt of his saber. The leather was worn smooth. The metal was cold. He waited for the fog to thin. It did not. "You see it?" The voice came from the shadows. Or perhaps it came from Elias’s own head. It was hard to tell. The...

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