The Pale Exile

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2026-08-19 17:18:26 -

The Pale Exile

The bread was hard. It tasted of chalk and old dust. Elias wiped his mouth with a sleeve that had seen better days. He sat on the cold stone of the chapel steps. The rain had stopped. The air smelled of wet earth and decay. He looked at the loaf in his hand. It was not much. A heel. A scrap. But it was food. Father Thomas came down the steps. His robes were black. His face was pale. He stopped....

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