The Golden Circuit
The heavy brass key sat in Elias Thorne’s palm, its weight a cold, metallic promise against his skin. He turned it over, watching the light catch the tarnish in the grooves, a small, solid thing in a world that felt increasingly hollow. Outside the window of the Aurelian Court, the river ran with a strange, viscous gold, reflecting the gaslights of the border town in a way that made the water...
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