The Pale Exile

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2026-08-22 04:23:45 -

The Pale Exile

The iron bridge groaned under the weight of the carriage, a low, metallic moan that seemed to vibrate in Clara’s teeth. She sat in the corner, her hands folded tightly in her lap, knuckles white against the dark wool of her gloves. The fog was not merely weather; it was a substance, thick and gray, pressing against the glass windows like a living thing seeking entry. It had been rising from the...

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