The Void Altar
The island was a jagged tooth of obsidian rising from a sea of boiling grey. Lydia had come to the North with a singular, mad obsession: to forge a blade that could cut through the veil of death and bring back the daughter she had lost to the fever. She was a smith of the forbidden, her forge fueled by the charcoal of burned memories. Mordecai was the man who found her. He had pulled her from...
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