The Golden Myth
The dream was always the same: a river of liquid gold, defying gravity, climbing the steep, slate-grey cliffs of Oakhaven. It did not dry. It did not freeze. It flowed uphill, a silent, impossible testament to a truth that Arthur Vane, a geologist of modest means and stubborn spirit, could not shake. He woke with the taste of iron in his mouth, the year 1912 pressing down on the small town like...
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