The Pale Path

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2026-08-20 13:46:00 -

The Pale Path

The mud sucked at my boots. It was thick and cold and smelled of rot. I kicked it away. I kicked it again. My legs were shaking. Not from cold. From fear. "Stop fighting," said the man behind me. His voice was soft. Too soft for a soldier. He wore a coat of grey wool. It was torn at the hem. "Let it take you." I did not stop. I could not stop. My hands were locked around the hilt of the sword....

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