The Pale Garden

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2026-08-20 19:25:11 -

The Pale Garden

The air in the Abbey of Saint Jude did not smell of incense or decay, but of wet chalk and the metallic tang of old blood, a scent that crept into the pores of Aldric’s skin as he stood before the High Master, a figure carved from shadow and silence who presided over the judgment of souls deemed too heavy for the earth to bear. Aldric, a man whose name had been stripped from the ledgers of the...

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