The Golden Ritual
Thorne. The voice came from the dark, a low rumble that felt less like sound and more like a vibration in the teeth. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of copper in his mouth and the image of the golden chalice shattering on cold stone seared behind his eyelids. He lay in the narrow bed of his barracks room, the fluorescent tube overhead buzzing with a flicker that made the shadows on the peeling...
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