The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 08:11:31 -

The Pale Exile

Thorne, stop that. The voice cut through the fog like a blade through wet wool, and I looked up from the ledger, my pen still hovering over the inkwell, the black liquid trembling in the reservoir. It was Silas, standing in the doorway of the patrol station, his coat heavy with the damp of the evening, his face a mask of stern concern that I had worn myself a dozen times. He wanted to know why...

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