The Pale Shadows

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 05:09:50 -

The Pale Shadows

The banquet hall smelled of wax and old blood. I stood by the window. The glass was cold. It bit into my palm. Outside, the moor slept. A grey veil of mist swallowed the hills. The castle stood like a tooth in a rotting jaw. Inside, the fire roared. It ate the logs. It ate the shadows. Lord Ashworth sat at the head of the table. He was a large man. His face was red. Wine stained his beard. He...

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