The Golden Maze
The road into the Vale of Aethelgard was not paved, but worn smooth by the hooves of those who sought answers and rarely found them. Elias Thorne walked it with a heavy step, his cloak damp with the perpetual mist that clung to the ancient pines like a shroud. He carried no sword, for he was not a warrior, but a seeker of truth in a world where truth had become a venomous thing. In his satchel,...
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