The Golden Oath
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, carried by a postman whose boots left muddy prints on the porch, a small, mundane detail that seemed to anchor the weight of the paper in his hand to the wet earth of the world. Elias Thorne, a man whose life had been a long, quiet subtraction of comforts until only the barest essentials remained, read the words twice. The ink was a faded violet, the script...
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