The Distant Temple
The archive smelled of wet ash and old iron, a scent that Elias had come to associate with the particular flavor of his own duty, for he was the inquisitor tasked with proving the heresy of the silent monks who had dwelt in the mountains to the north. He stood alone in the dim light, his fingers trembling as they brushed against the cold, jagged shards of the Temple Bell, which had been brought...
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