The Golden Farce
The chisel weighed four pounds, a precise and heavy truth in Elias’s hand, and the gate of the Obsidian Spire waited with the patience of a stone that had outlived the gods who carved it. In the year 842, the air in the valley was thick with the scent of wet earth and impending rain, a weight that pressed against Elias’s shoulders as he counted the days since his wife, Mara, had left him for a...
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