The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 11:55:06 -

The Pale Mist

The hall smelled of roasted boar and wet wool. It was a smell that clung to the back of the throat, thick and sweet, masking the colder scent of the river beyond the walls. You sat at the far end of the long oak table, your hands folded over the rim of your steel cup. The cup was warm. The metal was pitted and dull, worn thin by years of use, years of being held, years of being set down. It was...

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