The Pale Door

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 01:59:26 -

The Pale Door

The hall smelled of roasted pork and wet wool. It was a thick, cloying scent that clung to the back of Eamon’s throat, making it hard to speak, hard to breathe. He sat at the long oak table, his hands folded in his lap, staring at the grain of the wood. Around him, the men of the Order ate with loud, satisfied noises. Chunks of meat fell onto their stained tablecloths. Wine sloshed in clay...

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