The Golden Crossing
The silence in the archive was not empty; it was heavy, a physical weight that pressed against Elias Thorne’s temples and settled into the marrow of his bones. He sat alone in the cramped office on the fourth floor of the Guild of Records, the air thick with the scent of decaying paper and the damp chill that seeped through the ancient stone walls of Oakhaven. Before him lay the sealed file,...
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