The Pale Bridge
The iron key hangs heavy in your right hand, its teeth worn smooth by thirty-two years of turning locks that should have opened easily but never did. You are Elias, border warden of the mist-choked valley of Oakhaven, and the weight of that key is the only thing anchoring you to the earth while the world around you dissolves into a thick, grey suspension. The river here tastes of iron, a...
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