The Golden Visit
The candlelight in the Imperial Archive did not merely illuminate the shelves; it seemed to struggle against the weight of the dust, casting long, trembling shadows that made the rows of ledgers look like the ribs of some buried leviathan. Elias Thorne, forty years old and stiff in the joints from decades of hunched labor, held the sash in his gloved hands. It was a strip of fabric no wider...
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