The Pale Altar

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-18 22:52:42 -

The Pale Altar

The bell tower stands silent against the grey morning. You climb the spiral stairs. The stone is cold under your palms. It has always been cold. You are the Archivist of the Citadel. You have kept the records for forty years. The ink in your fingers is a permanent stain. It is the color of dried blood. It is the color of truth. You reach the top. The door is ajar. The wind bites. You push it...

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