The Golden Quest
The letter from the Imperial Academy was sealed with black wax, the crest of the university pressed into the center like a bruise, and Elias Thorne held it in his right hand, the knuckles white and swollen, while the left hand pressed a handkerchief against his mouth to catch the wet, rattling sound of a cough that had become the metronome of his final autumn. He was forty years old, a scholar...
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