The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 08:32:33 -

The Pale Mist

I woke with the taste of iron and ash on my tongue, the dream still clinging to my skin like wet wool. In the dream, the sky over the city of Aethelgard was not blue but a bruised purple, bleeding slowly into the horizon, and I stood in the square of St. Jude’s, holding a lantern that contained no light, only a swirling, pale mist that I had been told was pure. I knew, with a certainty that...

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