The Golden Farce
The road to the edge of the known world was not a straight line, but a scar torn through the fabric of the modern age. Elias walked it in his best wool coat, a garment of deep charcoal that had once been the pride of his wardrobe, now stiff with the dust of a journey that defied the cartographers. He was a man of few words, a seer in a world that had forgotten how to look inward, and he carried...
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