The Golden Song
In the hollow of Elias Thorne’s right palm, the royal signet ring sat heavy, its gold cold against the skin despite the warmth of the throne room. It was a small thing, no larger than a walnut, yet it possessed a density that seemed to pull at the bones of his wrist, a gravitational anomaly that made his arm ache with a dull, persistent throb. Elias stood alone in the center of the vast, silent...
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