The Golden Harbor
The damp of the Blackfriars cellar was not merely moisture but a living weight, pressing against Sir Aldric’s lungs as he stood alone in the dark, the single vial of golden elixir trembling in his grip. The liquid within pulsed with a faint, rhythmic luminescence, a heartbeat of light that seemed to synchronize with the thrumming of his own blood, a supernatural tether binding his fate to the...
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