The Pale Tower

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2026-08-22 07:27:05 -

The Pale Tower

The fog did not roll in; it seeped, a grey, viscous thing that tasted of iron and old rain, climbing the jagged teeth of the Scottish Highlands until it swallowed the valley whole. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the moor, his boots sinking into the peat, watching the Pale Tower rise from the mist like a broken finger pointing at a sky that had forgotten how to be blue. He was forty years...

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