The Pale Altar

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2026-08-25 07:28:30 -

The Pale Altar

In the saddle, Brother Thomas held the seal of the Inquisition not with the reverence of a priest, but with the grip of a man clutching a life raft in a rising tide. The wax was cold and brittle, cracked along the edges where his thumb had worn the surface thin, a small, jagged scar in the red that mirrored the fracture in his own vision. He was forty-five, which was young for a man who felt...

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