The Golden Farce
Elias Thorne woke with the taste of ash in his mouth, the dream of burning glyphs still etched behind his eyelids. He sat up in the dark of his cramped office, the rain hammering against the single pane of glass like a thousand impatient fingers. In the drawer of his desk, beneath a stack of unfiled correspondence, lay the cracked clay tablet he had stolen from the storage room three nights...
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