The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 13:56:21 -

The Pale Dance

The morning light enters the keep not as a gift but as an accusation, slicing through the high, arched windows of the Great Hall and laying bare the dust motes that dance in the stagnant air like suspended souls. You stand at the center of the stone floor, your hands resting on the pommel of a sword that has grown heavier with every year of your service, the leather grip worn smooth by the...

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