The Pale Tale

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2026-08-21 20:37:43 -

The Pale Tale

The mist did not lift when I left the village of Oakhaven. It merely thickened, a grey wool drawn tight around the world, swallowing the spires of the church and the crooked fences of the farms until there was nothing left but the mud under my boots and the heavy, iron-cold weight in my satchel. I was a stranger to the place, a man who had crossed the sea on a ship that smelled of tar and...

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