The Pale Altar

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2026-08-18 01:20:25 -

The Pale Altar

The morning you left for the city of Ashworth, the fog was so thick it felt less like weather and more like a shroud drawn tight over the shoulders of the world, and you walked out of the small, stone house where you had spent thirty years shaping the silence of others into the shape of their own voices, leaving behind the smell of beeswax and the dust of old paper, your hands trembling not...

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