The Distant Temple
The rain in the city did not fall so much as it suspended itself, a fine, gray mist that coated the cobblestones and the high, soot-stained brickwork of the old district in a layer of damp that seemed to have no end and no bottom, and it was in this weather that Elias Thorne, a man whose life had been defined by the quiet, grinding machinery of his own mediocrity, found himself standing before...
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