The Distant Temple

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2026-08-20 12:34:43 -

The air in the valley of Kaelen tasted of iron and old dust. It was a taste that had settled into the marrow of Silas Thorne’s bones long before he had ever spoken a word of power, a metallic tang that signaled the approach of the end. He stood at the edge of the precipice, his staff, a gnarled piece of hawthorn wrapped in fraying leather, planted firmly in the loose scree. Below him, the mist...

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