The Golden Quest
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent and gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the market square into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the low, bruised clouds above. Elara stood at the head of her stall, her hands resting on the polished wood of the counter, feeling the dampness seep through the wool of her apron. She was a weaver of the old thread, a craft that required...
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