The Golden Quest
The ink on Elias Thorne’s fingers did not wash away; it merely faded, leaving a faint, golden residue that persisted long after the water had run clear. It was a strange, quiet thing, this gilded stain, which appeared only when he set the type for the *Harrow County Gazette*, a mark of his hidden competence that also served as a reminder of his isolation in the cramped, steam-heated room of the...
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