The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 07:36:41 -

The Pale Altar

The dream was always the same. Stone. Cold. The weight of the crown. Edmund woke with a gasp. Sweat clung to his shirt. The room was dark. The air smelled of damp wool and old paper. He sat up. His heart hammered. It was a heavy sound. A dull thud against the ribs. He looked at the bed. The white sheets were rumpled. They looked like waves in a storm. He swung his legs over the side. His feet...

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