The Pale Exile

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2026-08-20 21:27:23 -

The Pale Exile

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended grey veil that erased the horizon of the courtyard and turned the cobblestones into mirrors of the overcast sky. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of this reflection, his boots sinking slightly into the wet mud, feeling the dampness seep through the wool of his trousers. He was a man of sixty winters, his face a map of lines carved...

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