The Distant Temple
The rain in Oakhaven did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended gray mist that turned the cobblestones into slick, dark mirrors. You stood on the corner of Miller’s Lane, your collar turned up against the damp, your eyes fixed on the window of the municipal archive. Inside, the lights burned with the steady, unblinking amber of a night-shift vigil, a glow that seemed to pulse in time with...
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