The Golden Quest
The bell of St. Jude’s did not ring at the hour of the execution; it screamed. It was a shriek that tore through the thick, damp air of the town square, a sound so violent it felt less like metal vibrating and more like the fabric of the world splitting along a fault line. In the center of the cobblestones, Elias Vane stood with his hands bound by ropes that bit into his wrists, the fibers...
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