The Pale Altar
The road to the Abbey of St. Jude was not a path but a wound in the earth, a long, gray scar that the rain had swollen into a slurry of mud and broken stone, and it was upon this unforgiving track that Elias walked, his small boots sinking deep into the mire with a sound like a wet cough, each step a laborious negotiation with the gravity that seemed to pull at his bones with an almost...
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