The Pale Altar
The mountain did not care for the law, nor for the men who wore its grey, and this was the first lesson that Elias Thorne learned, not in the academy where he had polished his boots until they shone like black mirrors, but in the mud of the highlands where the fog tasted of iron and old bone. He was a man of geometry and rigid lines, a soldier who believed that the world could be corrected if...
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