The Golden Visit
The dream was of chains, heavy and bright, linking his wrists to the floor of a vault. Elias Thorne woke with the taste of copper in his mouth and the cold seeping into his bones through the thin wool of his tattered uniform. He was forty-two years old, a sergeant of the King’s Guard, and he was hungry. Not the sharp, passing hunger of a missed meal, but a hollow, grinding emptiness that felt...
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