The Golden Quest
The first batch turned black. It smelled of rot and sulfur, a thick, oily sludge that clung to the bottom of the glass jar like tar. I wiped my hands on my apron, the fabric already stained grey from the coal dust that permeates every corner of Blackwood. Thomas was coughing in the next room, a wet, rattling sound that seemed to scrape against the inside of my skull. I am Elara, thirty-two, a...
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