The Pale Altar

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2026-08-26 00:47:56 -

The Pale Altar

Could a man truly know his sister if he had never once asked her what she feared? Dariush Moradi sat in the dim, dust-choked archive of the Imperial Ministry, the air heavy with dried reeds and old ink, his fingers stained black from the work of transcribing the grain ledgers. He was thirty-two, a scribe of modest rank, and for the first time in his life, the silence of the room felt less like...

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