The Pale Mist

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 00:31:58 -

The Pale Mist

The rain fell in sheets. It hammered against the slate roof of the chapel, a relentless, drumming rhythm that drowned out the wind. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and old stone. Margaret stood by the altar, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles turned white. She wore the grey habit of the Order of the Veil, the fabric clinging to her thin frame. She looked older than...

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