The Golden Crossing
The iron seal on the windowpane was not merely metal; it was a sentence carved into the cold glass, a jagged rune that whispered of a debt unpaid and a soul unbound. Captain Elias Thorne stood before it, his breath fogging in the stagnant air of the keep, the stone walls sweating with the dampness of centuries that refused to dry. He was a man carved from the same granite as the fortress, his...
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