The Golden Farce
The dream was of gold dust, settling into the crevices of his fingers, turning the air thick and sweet. Elias woke with the taste of metal in his mouth, the light of a grey dawn filtering through the workshop window. The door was barred. Not locked, but barred, a heavy oak plank wedged under the handle by men in the grey coats of the Crown’s new Guild. He knew the sound of their boots on the...
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