The Golden Song
The decree from the Guild Master arrived on parchment so thick it felt like leather, smelling of damp earth and iron filings, and it told you that you had one month to chart the Golden Path before the winter freeze sealed the valley of Oren in its eternal grey shroud. You were Elias, thirty-two years old, a man whose hands were perpetually stained with ink and whose ambition was a cold, sharp...
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