The Golden Scar
The chandeliers in the District Hall hung low enough to brush the hair of the tallest guests, their crystal prisms scattering the gaslight into a dizzying, fractured rain that fell upon the velvet tablecloths. At the center of this glittering storm stood Elias, twelve years old, his hands clasped behind his back to hide the violent trembling of his fingers. Around his neck, resting heavy...
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