The Golden Farce
The Shattered Crown whispered my name in the dark, a sound like dry leaves skittering over stone. I am Silas, warden of the Oakhaven keep, and I have held the relic for three days without sleep. It is not gold, not really, but a jagged mass of bone-white metal that feels like broken fingers in my grasp. I must deliver it to the capital before the winter solstice, a duty sworn to the King, yet...
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