The Pale Path

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2026-08-22 16:43:23 -

The Pale Path

The air in the guardroom smelled of damp wool and old iron, a scent that had become as familiar to me as my own pulse. I stood over the body of Corporal Halloway, who had fallen not to a blade but to a sudden, violent seizure of the heart, his face a mask of frozen terror that seemed to hold the memory of a scream no one had heard. My eyes, however, were not on his face but on the silver clasp...

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