The Golden Ritual
The infirmary smelled of wet stone and copper, a dampness that seeped into the marrow of Sergeant Elias Thorne’s bones as he knelt beside the iron bed where his wife, Mara, lay shivering beneath a quilt that had once been white but was now stained with the rust-colored weep of her illness. Elias, a man of forty whose face had been carved by twenty years of service into a mask of weary stone,...
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