The Pale Exile

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2026-08-20 13:24:51 -

The Pale Exile

The rain did not fall so much as it materialized, a cold, metallic mist that tasted of iron and old blood. I stood on the ramparts of the Citadel, the wind tearing at my tunic, the fabric frayed and thin against my skin. Below, the valley was a churning sea of grey, the smoke from the distant foundries mixing with the clouds until the sky and the earth could no longer be distinguished. I held...

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