The Golden Oath
The fog in the valley was thick as wool. It swallowed the world. Elias stood alone. His hands shook. He held the map. It was old. The ink had faded. But the lines were clear. They cut through the mist. They cut through him. He was a scholar of history. He had spent his life in libraries. Dust and silence. Now he was here. In the trench. The mud sucked at his boots. The air tasted of iron and...
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