The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 16:25:10 -

The Pale Altar

The rain had not stopped for three days, and the air in the Hall of Records smelled of wet wool and antiseptic. Elias stood before the High Warden, his twelve-year-old frame trembling not from cold but from a rage that felt too large for his chest. He wanted his father’s hand. The Warden, a man whose uniform seemed to swallow the light in the room, did not look up from his ledger. The Decree of...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews