The Pale Tower
The limestone dust hung in the air like a suspended breath, choking the light that filtered through the jagged mouth of the Pale Tower. Elias Thorne stood amidst the rubble, his boots sinking into the mortar and crushed slate, his hands trembling not from the biting November wind but from the visceral shock of the structural collapse that had occurred only hours prior. He stared at the twisted...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews