The Distant Temple

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 10:35:20 -

The fog in Ostrava did not roll in; it descended, a heavy, grey shroud that smelled of wet wool and old iron. Captain Elias Thorne stood before the mirror in his quarters, adjusting the ceremonial sash that cinched his waist. The fabric was silk, woven with threads that shimmered like blood under the candlelight. It was a relic of the old guard, a symbol of unbroken loyalty, or so the manuals...

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