The Golden Farce
The bell in the town square of Oakhaven did not ring for hours. It rang for souls. Or so the old stories said, before the church spire caught fire and the steeple fell, leaving a jagged mouth of stone that screamed at the sky. Now, it was just a bell. A heavy, iron thing that clattered when the wind shifted, a sound like a coin dropping into a bottomless well. Elias Thorne sat on the edge of...
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