The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 08:50:48 -

The Pale Dance

The tower stood empty. Caleb checked the seal. Intact. He touched the stone. Cold. Damp. He was a Warden. Not a guard. Warden. The title mattered. It implied care. It implied duty. He climbed. The steps were narrow. Worn smooth by feet. Feet that were no longer there. He reached the top. The door was open. A draft. Thin. Sharp. Inside, the room was dark. No furniture. No dust. Just the floor....

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