The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 08:08:54 -

The Pale Altar

The ink in the pot was blacker than the shadows in the corner, and it smelled of iron and wet earth. You stared at the blank page, the quill trembling in your hand, while the silence of the chapel pressed against your eardrums like deep water. "It must be exact, Elara," Silas said from the doorway, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. He did not step into the light. He remained in the dark, a...

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