The Pale Echo

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 23:06:08 -

The Pale Echo

The rain on the cobblestones smells of iron and old stone. You stand at the gate. Your hand grips the hilt of your saber. The leather is wet. Cold seeps into your palm. It is a good cold. It wakes the blood. Captain Halloway walks away. He does not look back. He wears a coat the color of ash. His steps are heavy. The mud sucks at his boots. You watch him go. You do not follow. You are not...

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