The Golden Ritual
Silas. The name was called out by the High Steward, a man whose voice had the dry, rasping quality of a file scraping across iron, and it cut through the humid, stagnant air of the throne room like a blade through wet silk, forcing the Royal Alchemist to lift his head from the polished obsidian floor where he had been kneeling since dawn. The room was a cathedral of cold stone and colder...
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