The Pale Exile

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2026-08-22 00:45:51 -

The Pale Exile

The rain hammered against the high, arched windows of the scriptorium, a relentless drumming that seemed to vibrate in the bones of the stone walls. Brother Thomas sat hunched over his desk, the smell of iron-gall ink and damp wool thick in the air, his fingers stained black up to the knuckles. He held the final page of the *Codex Aeternum* in one hand and a quill in the other, but he did not...

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