The Pale Bridge

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 10:17:11 -

The Pale Bridge

The rain fell in sheets. Gray. Cold. It washed the mud off the cobblestones of St. Jude’s. It washed the blood from my blade. I left the town gate. I did not look back. My wife, Elara, stood on the bridge. She held a lantern. The flame died in the wind. I walked into the fog. The Order of the Iron Veil had commanded it. The bells rang three times. The bell for treason. I had broken the law. I...

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