The Distant Temple
The gate locked with a sound like a bone snapping, the iron teeth biting into the wood with a finality that echoed off the stone walls of the keep. "General Vane says you have until the moon is high," the young guard called out, his voice thin against the howling wind, "or the court-martial begins without you." I did not look back. I held the vial against my chest, feeling the glass warm my...
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