The Pale Altar

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2026-08-18 02:34:08 -

The Pale Altar

The morning air in the Citadel of St. Jude was thin and tasted of iron. I stood at the edge of the high terrace, my boots caked in the red dust of the lower wards, watching the sun rise over the jagged silhouette of the city below. For thirty years, I had worn the silver crest of the Order of the Pale Altar. We were the keepers of the law, the enforcers of the King’s absolute will. We did not...

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