The Golden Crossing
The rain did not fall so much as it was expelled from the sky, a heavy, rhythmic drumming against the tin roof of the mill that threatened to shatter the silence within. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the churning black water, his boots sinking into the mud that clung to his legs with a viscous, desperate grip. He was not afraid, or if he was, the fear had been burned away by the cold that...
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