The Golden Quest
The truck idled in the gravel driveway, its engine a low, rhythmic growl that seemed to vibrate through the soles of Marcus Thorne’s boots as he stepped out into the grey, damp morning air, the scent of wet pine and cold earth hanging heavy in the stillness. He was a man carved from the same unyielding stone as the house before him, a fortress of dark timber and slate that stood isolated on the...
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