The Pale Altar

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2026-08-22 22:50:12 -

The Pale Altar

The rain in Oakhaven did not wash things clean; it only made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones of the High Street into a mirror for the gray sky and the weary faces of those who walked them. You were Thomas, a constable of thirty-four years, and your boots were wet to the ankle as you stood before the Magistrate’s office, clutching a folder that contained the entirety of your future....

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