The Golden Scar
He woke with the taste of rust in his mouth. The air was thick. It pressed against his skin like wet wool. The room was small. Stone walls. Cold. A single window, high up. Bars of iron. They did not shine. They were dull. Old. "Up, Captain." The voice came from the corner. A man sat there. Silhouette. Dark. He held a cup. Steam rose from it. It curled in the cold air. "Who are you?" Elias...
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