The Golden Visit
The workshop smelled of sulfur and old sweat, a scent that had settled into the very grain of the oak tables over four decades of Elias’s labor. He sat hunched over the bench, the candlelight trembling against the shadows of the tools hanging on the wall, his eyes fixed on the object in his hand. It was a ring, thin and fractured, its gold surface dull with the patina of twenty years of neglect...
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