The Pale Altar

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2026-08-24 00:33:44 -

The Pale Altar

Aldric, the smith’s voice was low and rough, cutting through the thin morning air before the sun had cleared the ridge of the roof. It was not a shout, but the quiet summons of a man who had seen too many men break things they did not understand, and it hung in the stillness of the forge as a warning. Aldric stood in the doorway, the chipped silver cup in his hand, the fracture a jagged white...

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