The Distant Temple
The sash was heavy, not with weight, but with a cold so profound it felt like a physical substance pressing against my sternum. I stood at the head of the table in the mess hall, the ceremonial crimson ribbon draped across my chest, absorbing the warmth of the roast beef and the chatter of my men until the air around me tasted of iron and frost. General Halloway sat opposite me, his face...
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