The Golden Echoes
The seal was red wax. It sat on the table like a dried drop of blood, fragile and cold. Elias Thorne held it in his palm. He looked at the letter inside. He did not open it. He had been waiting for this. For years, the town of Oakhaven had whispered about the seal. They called it the Golden Echo. Not because it was gold, but because it rang when struck. A dull, metallic thrum that vibrated in...
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