The Golden Quest
The wall collapsed first. It did not crumble; it simply ceased to hold the weight of the sky. Dust billowed into the throne room, a thick, grey fog that smelled of wet stone and old blood. Silas stood in the center of the chaos. He was not a king. He had never been a king. He was the prisoner in the highest tower, the man whose crimes were written in ink that would not wash out. But in the...
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