The Golden Ritual
The brass key turned in the lock with a sound like a bone cracking, a dry, sharp fracture that echoed in the humid air of the vault. Elian’s fingers, slick with the sweat of exertion, trembled as he held the mechanism steady, the metal biting into his palm. He was twelve, though his bones felt heavy, as if the years were already settling into his joints like sediment in a stagnant pond. In the...
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