The Golden Visit
The rain drummed a relentless, hollow rhythm against the slate roof of the watchtower, a sound that had worn into Sergeant Elias Thorne’s bones over the last three years. He stood by the narrow window, watching the grey mist swallow the iron bridges and the soot-stained chimneys of the industrial district below. In his hand, he held a small, tarnished silver locket. It was the only thing he...
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