The Pale Protocol
The sickness came in with the rain. It did not knock. It did not ask permission. It simply arrived, a cold hand on the back of my neck, and I knew. I knew because I had seen it before. In the eyes of the King’s guards. In the hollow cheeks of the court physicians. I was a soldier. I fought men. I did not fight ghosts. But the Court demanded I fight this. They called it the Pale Protocol. I...
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