The Pale Altar

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2026-08-23 18:53:56 -

The Pale Altar

The chisel slipped, biting into the thumb of my left hand, and I did not flinch. I was three hours into copying the ledgers for the Ministry of Internal Affairs, and the ink was drying too fast in the drafty room. My name is Elara, and I am thirty-two years old. I have worked in this Pale Court for six years, a scribe of the lowest rank, my hands perpetually stained blue-black with iron gall...

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