The Pale Exile

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2026-08-21 14:45:00 -

The Pale Exile

The horse waited. It did not eat. It stood in the mud, head low, breath pluming in the cold air. Elias held the reins. His hands shook. Not from cold. From fear. The village slept. Smoke curled from chimneys. Thin. Blue. It looked like ghosts. He had packed the bag. One bag. Wool. Bread. A knife. No letters. No names. He left the door unlocked. He left the key in the lock. It was a small thing....

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