The Distant Temple

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2026-08-22 17:10:34 -

The summons was a slip of heavy, cream-colored paper, stamped with the black seal of the High Court. Silas Vane held it in his left hand, the one that felt heavy, wrong, like a stone wrapped in wet cloth. He was thirty years old, an enforcer of the Peace, and he had ten years left on his contract. The contract promised a pension, a small house in the hills, and the quiet dignity of a man who...

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