The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 22:57:18 -

The Pale Exile

"You are late," the Old Man said. He did not look up from the loom. The shuttle clicked against the frame. A sharp, dry sound. Like a bone breaking. I froze in the doorway. Rain slicked my coat. It dripped onto the stone floor. I wiped my hands on my trousers. They were stained with ink. And mud. "I had to walk," I said. My voice shook. I hated it. I hated the wet. I hated the cold that crept...

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