The Golden Quest
The dream began with the weight of it. Not the weight of a rifle, which he had carried since he was old enough to hold his own shadow, but the weight of a word. It sat in his chest like a stone swallowed whole, a dense, black sphere of ink that refused to dissolve. Elias Vance woke with the taste of iron on his tongue, the metallic tang of a bruise that wasn’t there yet. He lay in the narrow...
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