The Golden Song
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the manor, a relentless, hollow rhythm that seemed to hollow out the bones of the house itself. Elias stood by the window, his hand resting on the cold glass. He was a man of the law, a magistrate in a time when the law was a heavy stone held over the heads of the common folk. His uniform, once crisp and dark, now...
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