The Golden Ritual
The itch starts at dawn, a tiny, burning pinprick on the palm of your left hand. You rub it against the rough wool of your tunic, but the sensation only sharpens, a warning from the city itself. You are Elias, a guard of the Outer Ward, and you have only one goal: to touch the bleeding stone before the fog lifts. The stones of Oria are strange. They weep a thick, molten gold that hardens into...
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