The Golden Farce
The station platform was a slab of grey concrete, cold enough to bite through the leather of Elias Thorne’s boots. He stood at the edge of the city, where the cobblestones gave way to the dark, sucking earth of the countryside, and watched the steam from the train curl into the air. Julian, his apprentice of six years, was already inside, a small figure obscured by the glass and the grime of...
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