The Golden Quest
The jar sits on the high shelf, above the hearth, where the smoke cannot reach but the dust can. It is a heavy vessel of green glass, sealed with wax that has turned the color of old blood, and inside it, something golden pulses with a slow, rhythmic light. You know what is in there. You have always known, even in the foggy depths of your childhood, before the words for *cure* or *justice* had...
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