The Golden Ritual
The air in the sub-basement of the Sterling Archives smelled of dry dust and the metallic tang of ozone, a scent that had long since permeated the fibers of Elias Thorne’s wool coat. He stood alone in the dimly lit reading room, the only light source being the sterile white beam of his magnifying lamp, which cut a sharp cone through the gloom. Before him lay the manuscript, a fragile artifact...
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