The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 21:17:07 -

The Pale Exile

The rain fell in sheets of iron, blurring the boundary between the moor and the sky until both were a single, weeping gray void. Silas stood in the center of the muddy clearing, his sword raised high, the steel slick with water and the warm, coppery scent of his own blood. Across from him, Lord Halloway did not fight. He stood with his hands open, his face a mask of serene, terrifying...

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