The Golden Farce
The vial in my breast pocket is warm, a constant, burning coal against my skin, and I know that as long as it remains unbroken, Julian is still out there, still fighting, still alive in the labyrinth of the city. I am Elias Thorne, apothecary and student of Julian Vane, and I have not slept in four days. The air in the clinic smells of lavender water and old paper, a scent that used to signify...
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