The Golden Maze
The chains bit into Elias Thorne’s wrists, the cold iron a sharp contrast to the warm, pulsing hum that radiated from the stone walls of the High Court in Oakhaven. He stood in the center of the great hall, his back to the audience, facing the High Judge, a man whose face was as rigid and unreadable as the granite he sat behind. The air smelled of damp earth and old blood, a scent that seemed...
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