The Golden Quest
The frost sits heavy on the windowpane of the small, rented room above the chandler’s shop, a lattice of ice that distorts the view of the cobblestone street below into a shimmering, fragmented mosaic of grey and black, and you press your forehead against the cold glass, feeling the bite of it seep into your skin, a sensation that is almost indistinguishable from the dull, persistent ache that...
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