The Golden Oath
The iron gate of the city had been breached an hour before dawn, and now the silence of the street was a heavy, suffocating blanket that pressed against the eardrums, a silence more violent than the shouting that had preceded it. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the cobblestone square, his hands trembling not from cold, though the morning air was sharp enough to cut, but from the sheer,...
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