The Golden Quest
The carriage wheels ground against the packed gravel of the processional way, a rhythmic, grinding sound that seemed to drill into the marrow of Elara’s bones as she sat rigid in the shadows of the velvet-lined compartment, her hands resting on her lap, still and pale as marble. Outside, the sun was high and merciless, beating down upon the white stone of the Citadel of Aethelgard, a structure...
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