The Golden Oath

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2026-08-22 23:08:30 -

The Golden Oath

The quill felt heavy in your hand, heavier than the parchment it scratched against. It was a goose feather, trimmed for the High Court, worth three silver pennies a week, and you had been holding it for six hours straight. Your fingers were cramping, the knuckles white, the ink staining the cuticles black. You were Elias, thirty-two, a scribe of modest talent and desperate intent. You wanted...

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