The Golden Song
The train hissed into the station like a dying animal, exhaling a plume of white steam that hung heavy in the cold morning air, and Elias Thorne stepped down onto the platform with a stiffness in his joints that felt older than his years. He carried only a canvas bag, worn at the seams, and the weight of a silence that had grown so dense around him over the last six months that it had become a...
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