The Pale Shadows

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 00:01:07 -

The Pale Shadows

The moss grew in my lungs. Not metaphorically. It sprouted, soft and green, filling the hollows of my chest. I coughed and spat a clump of wet earth. It smelled of rot and rain. I was in the cellar. The stone was cold against my cheek. Above me, the floor vibrated. Footsteps. Heavy boots. The Order of the White Thorn. They came every night. "Sleep, little sparrow," I whispered to the dark. My...

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