The Pale Path

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2026-08-22 07:31:07 -

The Pale Path

The dream was always the same: a hall of white marble, cold and endless, where the late King stood with a sword that burned like a star. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of iron on his tongue, his heart hammering a frantic, arrhythmic beat against his ribs. He was fifty-two, and the Master of the Royal Guard, a title that had once felt like a crown and now felt like a noose tightening slowly...

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