The Pale Garden

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 03:44:22 -

The Pale Garden

You are waking in a dream that tastes of iron and old wool. The air is thick, stagnant, smelling of damp stone and the faint, sweet rot of lilies. You are not in your bed. You are in a tower room, high above the village of Oakhaven, where the fog coils around the stone legs of the watchtower like the fingers of a drowning man. Your hands are bound. Not with rope, but with strips of linen, white...

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