The Golden Master
"Do you see it?" The voice was thin, stretched by the wind that howled through the pines. Elias did not answer. He stood at the edge of the cliff, his boots sunk into the frozen earth. The mist hung low, a gray shroud that swallowed the valley below. It was not merely weather. It was a presence. A breath. "Look," the other man said. His name was Arthur, though Elias had long since stopped...
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