The Golden Oath
The chisel bit into the limestone with a sound like a bone snapping, sharp and final. Elias counted the blows. One, two, three. He stopped. His hand trembled, not from the cold, but from the weight of the dark shape that lay flat against his back. It was a shadow, but not cast by any light source in the chapel. It was a stain on the air, a silhouette of his father, executed for treason twenty...
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