The Distant Temple
The mud in the valley was thick, a cold paste that sucked at the boots of Sergeant Elias Thorne with the patience of a grave. He clutched a small glass vial in his left hand, the glass warm against his palm despite the sleet. Inside, the liquid shimmered with a faint, pearlescent hue that did not belong to any water source in the borderlands. It was Temple Water, or so Mara had called it, a...
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