The Distant Temple
The fog in Harrowgate did not lift so much as it dissolved, a slow exhalation of grey mist that clung to the cobblestones and the damp brick of the Victorian townhouses. It was a town that had forgotten how to breathe, where the air itself seemed heavy with the weight of unspoken things. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the park, his uniform buttoned to the throat, the wool stiff against his...
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