The Distant Temple
The heat in the courtyard was not the heat of the sun, which had long since set behind the jagged teeth of the northern cliffs, but a dry, alchemical scorch that seemed to rise from the very cobblestones, baking the sweat into Sir Aldric’s plate armor until the metal groaned under the weight of its own fusion with his skin. He stood there, a statue of rust and regret, thirty-two years of his...
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