The Golden Quest
The brass bell above the door of Elias Thorne’s workshop did not ring when he entered, for the shop was closed to the world, and the night had settled over the city of Oakhaven like a heavy, wet shroud that smelled of wet wool and old smoke. Elias stood in the center of the room, his hands resting on the cool, polished surface of the workbench, where the great mirror lay face down, its glass a...
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