The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 09:38:57 -

The Pale Exile

The fire started in the ledger room. It was a small thing at first. A spark caught the dry oak. The smell of charred paper hit me before the heat did. I was standing by the window. My hands were trembling. They always trembled when the light was low. I am Sergeant Thomas Whitmore. I served in the Ninth. I served for forty years. My name is ink on the wall. It is fading. The smoke was thick. It...

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