The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 15:43:19 -

The Pale Altar

The rain fell on the cobblestones of Oakhaven. It fell hard. It fell cold. It fell without pause. Silas Vane stood at the gate. He held his rifle. The wood was wet. The metal was cold. He wore his uniform. The blue wool was dark. The brass buttons shone. They were dull now. Dust and grime had eaten the light. He looked at the town. The houses leaned in. The chimneys smoked. Smoke rose. It mixed...

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