The Golden Oath
The iron gates of the manor stood open, a gaping maw of rusted teeth, inviting the wind to howl through the empty corridors of the house that had once been a beacon of civilization. Silas Thorne stood at the threshold, his boots sinking into the mud that had reclaimed the gravel path, the weight of the leather satchel against his hip heavy with the cold, damp air of the autumn night. He was a...
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