The Pale Exile

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2026-08-20 07:30:59 -

The Pale Exile

I woke with the taste of rust on my tongue. The iron bars had not changed, but I had. They were no longer cold. They were warm, pulsing against my wrists like a second heartbeat. I was still in the cell, of course. The stone walls wept with dampness, the same dampness that had seeped into my bones for three years. I looked at my hands. They were trembling. Not from fear, but from a sudden,...

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