The Golden Oath
The vial in Elias Thorne’s hand was cracked, a hairline fracture running from the neck to the base, yet the golden liquid inside remained contained, humming with a frequency that vibrated against his palm like a trapped bird. It was the last of the elixir his wife, Clara, had distilled before her death, a remedy born of alchemical obsession and maternal desperation, and it glowed with a faint,...
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