The Pale Verdict
The bell of the Abbey of Saint Jude tolled three times, a sound that hung in the damp air like a bruise on the sky. It was the hour of separation, the moment when the old world was left at the gate and the new, terrible world began. Brother Silas stood before the high altar, his fingers resting on the rim of a clay bowl. The bowl was cracked, a hairline fracture running from the lip to the...
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