The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-23 01:43:37 -

The quill trembled in Elias’s hand, its tip clogged with a black soot that smelled of burnt hair and stale incense. He held the stem so tightly his knuckles whitened, the feather pressing into the meat of his thumb until the bone ached, a sharp, grounding pain that kept him tethered to the physical world. Before him lay the vellum, stretched taut over the oak desk, its surface already marred by...

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