The Pale Exile

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2026-08-19 02:09:59 -

The Pale Exile

The old man sat on the bench, his hands wrapped around a cup of tea that had long since gone cold, watching the rain streak the glass of the window opposite. It was a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday; time in Millhaven had a way of pooling and stagnating, much like the water in the millrace that fed the town’s sole industry. Across from him, leaning against the counter with an air of bored...

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