The Golden Song
The dream always started with the weight of gold pressing against Elara’s ribs. It was a heavy, warm pressure, like a stone wrapped in velvet, sitting just beneath her sternum. In the dream, she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, a wren, small and shimmering with a metallic sheen, burst from her throat and circled the grey stone walls of the Guildhouse. The bird sang a...
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