The Pale Exile

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 14:17:11 -

The Pale Exile

The parchment in my hands was damp, the ink of the plague wards not yet dry, and it was this specific, wet texture that first betrayed me. I held the sheet against the cold stone of the scriptorium desk, my fingers stained black to the second knuckle, while the Abbot’s shadow fell long and sharp across the floorboards, cutting the room in half. I had come to beg for pardon, not for the act of...

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