The Golden Oath
The heat in the foundry was not a temperature but a weight, a physical pressure that pressed against Elias Thorne’s chest and squeezed the air from his lungs until the only thing he could hear was the wet, rhythmic thud of his own heart against his ribs. He stood before the iron desk, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the final page of the safety ledger, the leather cover worn...
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