The Pale Exile
Chapter One The bog roads of Mayo churned under the weight of the packet ship’s shadow, a landscape of stranded boats where the dry cold preserved every rot and ruin with a physical, brutal clarity. I sat in the damp barracks of the citadel, the air tasting of copper and old blood, while the vegetable cart’s chant drifted through the window, a rhythmic thud that marked the passing of the hour....
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