The Pale Tower

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 01:09:12 -

The Pale Tower

The mud on my boots had dried into a crust that looked like old bone. I stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the fog roll in from the sea, thick and white as milk. Behind me, the village of Oakhaven sat huddled in the gray light, its stone houses hugging the hillside like frightened sheep. I was the Warden. That was the title they gave me, though I felt less like a guardian and more like a...

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