The Distant Temple
The note was written on the back of a coal delivery slip, the ink smudged by the damp. It read: *Elias, leave before the frost sets. The weight is too heavy for the young.* You held the paper until the edges softened in your palm, the cold seeping into your skin. You were twelve. You wanted to find the Distant Temple. You wanted to stop the cough that rattled in your mother’s chest like a loose...
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