The Distant Temple

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2026-08-20 07:36:55 -

The rain had not stopped for three days. It slicked the cobblestones of Blackwood Lane into a mirror of grey. Elias Thorne walked. His boots were wet. The leather had warped. It smelled of rot and iron. He carried a coat. It was red. Not a bright red. A deep, arterial crimson. The wool was heavy. It dragged at his shoulder. He was a constable. Or he had been. The badge was in his pocket. It...

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