The Pale Altar

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2026-08-23 09:45:24 -

The Pale Altar

The parchment was heavy, its edges curling inward like a dried leaf, and the ink was the color of old blood, a substance that seemed to absorb the light from the tallow candle rather than reflect it. Elara held the decree with hands that trembled not from cold, but from the sheer, crushing weight of the paper itself, as if the words were physically pressing down on her knuckles, forcing them...

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