The Golden Quest
The fever broke at dawn, leaving Sir Aldric gasping on the straw pallet, the air of the infirmary thick with the scent of boiled lye and old blood. He remembered the dream with a clarity that felt like a physical blow: a golden seal, hot as a coal, pressing against his sternum, and his own name, *Aldric*, carved into the wax in letters that bled light. He sat up, his joints cracking, and looked...
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