The Pale Exile

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2026-08-18 12:27:16 -

The Pale Exile

The dream began with the sound of chisels. Not the sharp, frantic tapping of modern construction. This was a deep, rhythmic thud. *Thock. Thock. Thock.* It came from the walls. From the floor. From the air itself. Elara woke with the taste of wet stone in her mouth. She was in the infirmary. The air smelled of lavender water and old iron. The light through the high, narrow windows was the color...

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