The Golden Ritual
The seal was gold, stamped into the wax with a sharpness that cut the light in the office like a blade. Elias Thorne stood before the clerk’s desk, his hands clasped behind his back, feeling the cold seep through the thin wool of his uniform. He had come for a simple signature, a confirmation of his twenty years of service, a final step toward the pension that would keep the roof over Mara’s...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews