The Pale Altar

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2026-08-23 11:22:47 -

The Pale Altar

The loom clattered in the dim workshop, a rhythmic, wooden heartbeat that marked the seconds of Elias Thorne’s life. He was thirty, a man of quiet hands and loud ambition, and he wanted the Guild Master’s chair. The shawl he was weaving, intended for the Midsummer Festival, was to be his offering, his proof that he belonged at the top. But the Guild Council, a body of old men who smelled of...

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