The Golden Song
The dust in the Oakhaven Municipal Archive did not settle; it hovered, a suspended grey haze that coated the tongue with the taste of old paper and neglect. Elias Thorne adjusted his spectacles, the lenses fogging slightly in the chill of the basement room, and stared at the fragment of vellum he had pulled from the uncatalogued box labeled "Miscellaneous, Pre-1800." He was thirty years old,...
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