The Pale Mist

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2026-08-22 09:04:26 -

The Pale Mist

The rain in Harrowgate did not fall so much as it hung, a cold, grey sheet that soaked through the wool of Elias Thorne’s uniform and settled into the bones of his thirty-four-year-old frame. He stood at the mill gate, his boots sinking into the mud, watching the steam rise from the vents of Vane’s textile works, a white breath that seemed to choke the air itself. Elias had wanted only the...

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