The Golden Oath
The ledger in Elias Thorne’s hand weighed as much as a brick, its leather cover cracked and stiff with the dust of twenty years, and he counted the coins in the tin again, one by one, until his thumb bled against the rim. Fourteen silvers. Three coppers. The Guild Master, Aldous Vane, stood behind him in the dim light of the workshop, watching the count with the patient stillness of a man who...
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