The Pale Exile

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 06:22:22 -

The Pale Exile

The train arrived in Greyswell at dawn, a slow grinding of iron against iron that woke the town from its gray slumber. Elias Thorne stepped onto the platform, his suitcase in hand. It was a modest thing, battered leather with a brass clasp that no longer held. He adjusted his collar, a stiff white thing that chafed his neck, and looked out at the mist. The air smelled of wet coal and stale...

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