The Distant Temple
The ice came down from the sky in sheets of black glass, shattering the stained window of the library and turning the floor into a mosaic of shattered saints and frozen rain. Father Elias stood in the center of the ruin, his hands resting on the hilt of a sword that had not been drawn in thirty years, his eyes fixed not on the damage, but on the young man kneeling in the shards. The young man...
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