The Distant Temple

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2026-08-24 00:39:29 -

Thorne. The name hung in the air, heavy and wet, like the smell of damp wool and stale incense that always clung to the cellar where I kept the ink. I did not look up from the vellum. My hand, steady as a surgeon’s for the first hour, had begun to tremble by the third, a fine, involuntary shiver that made the quill scratch and spatter. The Abbot’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, the sound of...

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