The Pale Exile

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2026-08-20 05:41:11 -

The Pale Exile

The feast was loud. Too loud. Candles guttered in the wind that whistled through the gaps of the great hall. Lord Ashworth sat at the high table. He ate. He drank. He smiled. It was a thin smile. A knife’s edge. I stood by the door. I was not invited. I was not a guest. I was the thing in the corner. The shadow that does not breathe. My name is not written. Names are for men. I am the Hollow. I...

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