The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 08:55:40 -

The Pale Altar

The silver ring sat cold and heavy in Elias’s palm, its band worn smooth by his mother’s thumb over thirty years of anxious turning. He stared at the reflection of his own hollowed face in the polished metal, a ghost trapped in a circle of white gold, before sliding it into the damp pocket of his coat. The air in the apothecary smelled of dried lavender and rotting wood, a cloying sweetness...

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