The Golden Cellar
The cellar was breathing. I felt it first in my teeth. A hum. Low. Thick. Like the vibration of a bow drawn across a cello string that had been pulled too tight. I woke on the cold stone floor. My armor was gone. I was naked. Shivering. The air smelled of wet earth and old iron. "Thomas," a voice said. I turned. He stood in the shadows. Old Silas. My commander. Or what used to be him. His face...
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