The Last Temple / Season 1, Episode 12
Temple's Last Secret
The stone bit into Miriam’s palms as she clawed her way up the jagged tunnel wall, her breath ragged, tasting of ash and damp earth. Above, the city screamed—timbers snapping, stone collapsing, the roar of flames eating through what was left of the Temple. Below, in the dark, the echo of boots still lingered, Roman voices barking orders, hunting for stragglers. For her. For Salome. For the scroll bound tight against her chest, its leather strap cutting into her skin with every lurch forward. Her sandal caught on a lip of rock, and she stumbled, her knee slamming into the uneven ground. Pain flared hot, but she bit down on a curse, her ears straining for any sound of her niece ahead. “Salome!” Her whisper hissed through the dark, sharp and desperate. No answer. Just the drip of water somewhere deeper in the tunnel, the distant groan of the earth shifting under the weight of a dying city. Her hand found the wall before her eyes found the shape of it, rough and slick with moss, guiding her forward. She’d lost sight of the girl when Salome had squeezed through that cursed crack in the stone, her small frame slipping out of reach while Miriam had hidden beneath the shelf, holding her breath as a Roman’s sword scraped inches from...