The Pale Exile
Chapter One The terraced hills of the Highlands stood stitched together by dry stone walls, a patchwork of heather and moss that held the rain in its folds, while in the village of Dunbar, the only sound that mattered was the rhythmic clatter of the mill race, a sound that had gone silent two days prior when the fire took the barn and the receipts, leaving the air heavy with ash and the memory...
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