The Pale Mist

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2026-08-19 14:12:09 -

The Pale Mist

The mist did not roll in; it stood up from the water like a wall of wet wool, erasing the horizon and leaving us suspended in a gray, breathless void. I remember the cold first, a dampness that settled into the marrow of my bones, followed by the sound of the oar scraping against the rotting wood of the hull. Rowan was not with me. He had gone ahead, his silhouette already swallowed by the...

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