The Golden Ritual
The dream was always the same, a recurring liturgy of alchemical horror where Elias Vane woke to find his fingers fused into solid, gleaming gold, the metal cold and heavy against the parchment of his waking life. He lay in the damp, candlelit scriptorium of the University of St. Jude’s, the smell of rotting vellum and wet stone clinging to his lungs, and watched the yellow light of the...
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