The Pale Exile

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2026-08-19 02:58:17 -

The Pale Exile

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain woven of mist and malice, blurring the edges of the old manor until the world beyond the glass ceased to exist. I stood by the window, watching the water trace slow, weeping lines down the pane. The stone of the house was breathing. I could feel it in my bones, a low, rhythmic thrum that matched the beating of my own heart, though mine...

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