The Distant Temple
You are tired. The ink stains your fingers, a permanent violet bruise that will not wash away. You are a scholar of the Archive, a keeper of the old scrolls. The building is cold. The stone walls weep with dampness. Outside, the wind howls like a dying dog. Inside, you hunt. You hunt for a sound. A specific, low hum that vibrates in the teeth. "Is it here?" you ask. Your voice is dry. It cracks...
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