The Pale Tower

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 22:47:15 -

The Pale Tower

The dream was always the same, a recurring nightmare stitched into the fabric of my sleep since I left the barracks. In it, I stood before a wall of pale stone, slick with rain, and the stone breathed. It exhaled a cold, gray mist that tasted of iron and old blood. I was not afraid in the dream. I was only waiting for the key that would never come. I woke with the taste of rust on my tongue,...

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