The Golden Oath
The air in the garrison office tasted of copper and old dust, a metallic tang that coated the back of Elias Thorne’s throat as he stood before the desk of Commander Aldous. Aldous did not look up from the ledger he was signing, his pen scratching a sharp, rhythmic sound against the parchment, the motion steady and deliberate despite the way his left hand trembled slightly, the skin over the...
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