The Golden Oath
The iron seal on the mailbag was the size of a thumb, cold and hard as a river stone. Elias Vance held it up to the dim light of his study, turning it over in his calloused hands. It was a symbol he had known all his life, a circle bisected by a line, the mark of the Wardens. It represented order. It represented the law that kept the town of Harrow’s Bend from dissolving into the grey, wet mud...
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