The Distant Temple
The grey powder settled on the parchment like snow that had forgotten how to melt, a fine, crystalline dust that Elias wiped from the rim of his crucible with a trembling finger, knowing with a cold, professional certainty that this was not a contaminant but a presence. In the year of our Lord 1042, within the damp stone undercroft of the Duke of Valois’s castle, Elias, a man of thirty-five...
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