The Golden Oath
The parchment lay on the workbench, its edges curling in the damp air of the workshop. Elias Vane read it twice, the ink smudged where the dying man’s fingers had slipped. It was a commission for a crown, sealed with the Duke’s wax, but the letter from the Guild Master, Master Aldous Thorne, sat atop it like a stone. Thorne had declared the commission state property, citing the new statutes...
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