The Golden Quest
The ice on the Kaskaskia did not merely freeze; it remembered, and on the night of November the fourteenth, it sang a low, mournful chord that vibrated through the floorboards of my office, a sound so distinct and sorrowful that I dropped my pen and watched the ink bleed into the grain of the desk, a dark stain spreading like a bruise under the skin of the wood. I am Elias Thorne, Captain of...
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