The Distant Temple
The wool coat hung on the hook by the door, its fabric a heavy, mottled grey that seemed to absorb the thin afternoon light filtering through the grime-caked windows of the municipal office, a garment that had once been the uniform of a respected medium but now served merely as a shroud for Elara Vane’s dwindling vitality. She stood before the desk of Director Halloway, a man whose face was as...
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