The Pale Exile

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2026-08-19 20:55:52 -

The Pale Exile

The river was black and still. It did not flow. It sat there, a mirror of obsidian, holding the sky in its palm. Caelen stood on the bank. His feet sank into the mud. The water was cold. He could feel it through his boots. He was not afraid. He was tired. The fatigue was a heavy stone in his chest. It had been there for a long time. Longer than he could remember. He looked down. The water held...

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