The Distant Temple
The bell of St. Jude’s tolled not with the clear, resonant chime that once called the faithful to prayer, but with a dull, rusted groan that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of the stones. It was a sound of structural failure, a mechanical sigh that heralded the end of an era more reliably than any sermon. Elias Thorne, the Constable of the town, stood at the base of the tower, his hands resting...
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