The Pale Mist

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2026-08-20 07:01:51 -

The Pale Mist

The mist was not gray. It was white. A blinding, absolute white that erased the horizon and the ground. Cillian stood at the edge of the known world. His boots were mud-caked. The leather of his gloves was cracked. He held his sword. The steel was dull. It had been dull for three days. He did not know where he was. He only knew he was hunting. The Order had sent him. They spoke of the Path....

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