The Pale Altar

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2026-08-19 08:13:17 -

The Pale Altar

The rain did not fall so much as it seeped, a cold, grey weeping that soaked through the thick wool of my cloak and settled into the very marrow of my bones, a persistent dampness that felt less like weather and more like the slow, suffocating weight of a grave being dug in real time around my feet, while the great hall of the Abbey of St. Jude’s remained a sterile, echoing void where the...

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