The Pale Exile

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 19:10:35 -

The Pale Exile

The frost came early that year. It settled on the windowpanes of the study in delicate, crystalline ferns, sealing the world outside into a silent, white void. I sat by the hearth, the fire low and dying, watching the embers pulse with a faint, arterial light. My father was asleep in the chair across the room. His breathing was shallow, a rhythmic whisper against the silence. He had been ill...

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