The Golden Visit
The mist in Oakhaven did not lift; it thickened, turning the cobblestones into sludge and the air into a wet wool that clung to the lungs. Elias stood before the great millstones, his hands trembling as he held the chipped golden spoon, the only thing his father had left him when the fever took the old man. The spoon was warm, heavier than it should have been, and it hummed against his palm...
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