The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:19:40 -

The Pale Exile

The house burned. Not with a roar. It sighed. A long, gray exhale of timber and plaster. Elias stood in the yard. He watched the roof collapse. He felt nothing. His hands were in his pockets. His breath was white in the cold air. "Is it done?" He did not turn. He knew the voice. "Almost." Marcus stood by the gate. He wore his best coat. The wool was dark. It absorbed the orange light. He looked...

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