The Distant Temple

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2026-08-22 02:30:44 -

The bell hung low. It was a heavy thing, cast in the dark years when our town still smelled of coal smoke and wet wool. I had bought it from old Silas, a man whose eyes were as clouded as the river he fished. I paid him in silver, though he said it was worth more in blood. I did not know what he meant then. I am a merchant of fine things. Brass. Velvet. Clocks that tick with a heartbeat of...

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