The Golden Oath
The trowel felt heavy in my hand, the steel cold and slick with the grey slurry I was trying to force into the fissure. I am Elias, twelve years old, and I am trying to save the Ashworth Library before the winter solstice, a task that requires a steady hand and a silence so deep it could choke a man. The building itself is not merely stone and mortar; it is a living thing that breathes through...
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