The Distant Temple
The sky broke open with a sound like tearing sheet metal. Not thunder. A crack. Sharp. Final. I stood in the mud of the valley floor, my rifle heavy in my hands, watching the clouds turn the color of bruised plums. The rain hit the earth with a violence that felt personal. It stung my face. It soaked through my wool tunic in seconds. I did not run. I had nowhere to run. The war had eaten the...
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