The Pale Tower

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2026-08-22 16:01:38 -

The Pale Tower

The dream was always the same, a white lily blooming in a bed of grey ash, its petals trembling with a cold that Thomas Bradshaw could feel in his marrow even as he woke in the stifling heat of the fortress chamber. He sat up, the sweat cooling on his skin, and looked at his hands, which were stained with ink and the dried blood of the previous day’s interrogations. The year was 1348, and the...

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