The Pale Tale
The fire started at the edge of the moor, a sudden, violent bloom of orange light that swallowed the darkness whole, and it was in that blinding, choking heat that Thomas Bradshaw first realized the weight of the wool cloak he had carried for six years was no longer a burden of duty but a chain forged in iron and regret, binding him to a ghost he had sworn to leave behind. He stood there, the...
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