The Distant Temple

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 20:37:25 -

The cellar smelled of damp stone and the sharp, metallic tang of dried blood. "Elias," the voice came from the shadows above, low and gravelly. "You are making a mess of the mortar." I did not look up. My hands were stained red to the wrist, not with the red clay of the Order’s architecture, but with my own blood, which I had drawn from my forearm in accordance with the old rites. The mortar in...

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