The Pale Altar

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-19 08:02:15 -

The Pale Altar

The rain had stopped, but the air still tasted of wet iron and old stone. Thomas Vane walked the long, flagstone corridor of the Citadel. His boots made no sound. He was a man of few words, a soldier who had spent twenty years guarding the gate. Now the gate was behind him. He carried a box. It was small, made of dark wood, bound in silver wire. Inside lay a cloak. It was heavy, woven from a...

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