The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-20 08:43:17 -

The Pale Bridge

The road was a ribbon of grey mud, torn by the rain. Elias walked. His boots were heavy. The air tasted of iron and rot. He carried nothing but the weight of his hands. They were empty now. They had been empty for three days. Before that, they held the glass. He had carried it from the city. From the high tower where the light was clean and cold. He had stolen it. Or perhaps he had been given...

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