The Distant Temple
The rain fell with a persistent, rhythmic insistence against the slate roof of the manor, a sound that had become so woven into the fabric of Elias Thorne’s existence that he could no longer distinguish the weather from the beating of his own heart, which throbbed in a dull, arrhythmic pain behind his sternum as he stood before the massive, oak-paneled door that served as the sole entrance to...
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