The Pale Circus

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 09:38:47 -

The Pale Circus

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, grey mist that clung to the stone walls of the manor and seeped into the joints of my bones. I stood in the center of the great hall, my sword drawn, the steel trembling not from fear but from a profound, exhausting fatigue. Across from me stood Silas, my brother, his face a mask of indifference that I had worn for decades myself. We had been...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews