The Distant Temple

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2026-08-24 02:59:21 -

The iron ring sat heavy in Thomas’s palm, cold as the stone floor beneath him. He was a scribe of thirty years, a man of ink and vellum, yet his hands were stained black with soot and fear. The cell was small, windowless, lit only by a single tallow candle that sputtered in the draft. Outside, the drums of the Inquisition beat a slow, rhythmic pulse against the walls, a sound that seemed to...

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