The Distant Temple
The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent and gray curtain that washed the stone walls of the Citadel until they wept with cold, and in the small, windowless cell that served as his office, Captain Elias Thorne sat motionless, his hands resting on the cold iron of the desk, feeling the weight of the silence pressing against his eardrums like the deep ocean, for he knew with the...
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