The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-19 07:48:55 -

The Pale Bonsai

The bell tolls. Not a chime, but a shudder in the air. You feel it in your teeth. The village square is empty. The mud is fresh. Rain slicks the cobblestones into black mirrors. You stand at the edge of the market. Your sword is drawn. The steel is cold. It tastes of iron and blood. You are the Warden. You have walked for three days. Your legs burn. Your mind is clear. The clarity is a blade....

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