The Golden Quest
Thomas. The name was called by Brother Silas, who stood in the doorway of the scriptorium with a bowl of gruel in his hand, the steam from it curling into the cold air like a ghost trying to remember its shape. Thomas did not look up from the vellum; his fingers, stained black to the second knuckle with iron gall ink, moved with the mechanical precision of a man who had spent twenty years...
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