The Distant Temple

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 19:14:22 -

The hall was loud. It smelled of roasted meat and stale wine. I stood in the corner. My hands were empty. They were not always empty. I am a thing of the air. Or so they say. I have no name that sticks. The scribes call me the Hollow Man. Or the Ghost in the Wall. I prefer to be nothing. Nothing is quiet. Nothing does not bleed. But tonight, I held the key. It was a small thing. Brass. Green...

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