The Pale Tower
The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, gray curtain that blurred the line between the earth and the sky, and you stood at the edge of the treeline, your boots sinking into the soft, rotting mulch of the forest floor. You were a soldier, or at least you wore the uniform of one, the fabric heavy with moisture and the weight of a history you could not quite remember. The air smelled...
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