The Golden Scar

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2026-08-18 11:09:34 -

The Golden Scar

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pork and wet wool, a cloying mixture that hung heavy in the air, thick enough to taste on the tongue, a physical weight that pressed against the ribs of every guest who sat around the long, scarred table. Dr. Elias Thorne sat at the far end, his hands folded neatly in his lap, the knuckles white from the tension he held there, a scholar’s posture that...

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