The Pale Tower
The fog did not merely settle upon the city of Oakhaven; it inhabited it, a thick, wet wool that pressed against the glass windows of the old observatory where Elias Thorne spent his nights cataloging stars that no longer existed, a scholar of light whose own illumination had long since faded into a grey, institutional twilight. He woke not in his bed, but in a dream of such vivid, terrifying...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews