The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-20 05:56:21 -

The Pale Bridge

The rain in the city of Aethelgard did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended veil of gray mist that smelled of wet slate and old iron, clinging to your skin with the persistence of a debt unpaid, and you stood at the center of the High Bridge, your hands wrapped around the hilt of a sword that had not tasted blood in three years but which you knew, with a bone-deep certainty that bypassed...

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