The Pale Circus

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 08:32:36 -

The Pale Circus

The rain in Oakhaven did not fall so much as it oozed, a thick, oily black fluid that wept from the cobblestones and mirrored the souls of those who dared to walk upon them. Silas Vane stood alone in his cramped room, the candlelight trembling against the damp walls, his fingers digging into a pouch of silver coins that had grown light with use and hope. He was thirty-two, a mercenary whose...

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