The Golden Quest
The ink is still wet when I write this, trembling in a hand that feels too large for the paper, and the date is the fourteenth of October, 1893, a day that will mark the end of Elias Thorne the antiquarian and the beginning of something else, something I do not yet have a name for. I have stolen the Golden Loaf from the vaults of the Abbey of St. Jude, a relic of such terrible potency that the...
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