The Pale Tale
I am the root. I am the stone. I am the silence beneath the floorboards of the mill. They call me a thief. They call me a monster. They do not know I am only the soil. I do not steal. I absorb. I drink the dark. I drink the fear. I drink the names of the dead and make them grow into something else. Something green. Something alive. Something that cannot be burned. The village is small. The...
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