The Golden Quest
The road to the Hollow was not a road at all, but a scar in the earth, a ribbon of crushed stone and wet mud that wound through the black pines. Elara pulled her shawl tighter against the biting wind, the fabric coarse against her neck, yet it felt like a second skin, warm and suffocating all at once. It was a grey woolen thing, hand-spun by her mother before the fever took her, and now it was...
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