The Distant Temple
The warrant for Elara Vance’s arrest was stamped in red ink, the paper brittle with age, as if the bureaucracy of Oakhaven had been waiting for this specific cruelty to dry. You held it in your left hand, your right resting on the pommel of your truncheon, and you watched the Magistrate’s office through the window, where the light fell in slanting, dusty bars across the filing cabinets. Inside,...
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