The Pale Door

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2026-08-22 02:57:16 -

The Pale Door

The snow did not fall; it struck. It hammered against my face as I marched north, the wind a physical weight that pressed against my breastplate, a constant reminder of the duty that binds me to a system I no longer understand. I am Elias, thirty-two, a captain in the Royal Guard. My sword hangs at my hip, cold and heavy, a dead weight against my thigh. We are three days from the capital, and...

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