The Pale Mist
The frost did not creep into the stone hall of Blackwood Priory; it arrived, a violent and sudden shiver that rattled the iron-bound doors and turned the breath of the gathered women into white ghosts hanging in the stagnant air. It was the winter of 1348, a time when the world outside these high, arched windows had already begun to rot, but within these walls, the decay was of the spirit,...
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