The Distant Whispers
The stone cells of the Abbey of St. Jude smelled of damp moss and ancient dust. Elara pressed her back against the cold wall. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts. She was a detective, or so the Order called her. An inquisitor of the spirit. Her task was to find the heresy that had taken root in the monastery’s silent halls. The pressure of the institution was a heavy hand on her chest. It...
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