The Golden Quest
The ink on the ledger is still wet when you first notice the stain, a dark, spreading bloom on the parchment that looks less like an error and more like a wound that refuses to close. You are sitting in the high, vaulted office of the Guild of Weavers, the air thick with the smell of old paper and the faint, metallic tang of the quill you have been gripping so tightly for hours. Outside, the...
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