The Golden Maze
The letter lay on the oak desk, its seal broken, the ink still wet where the Director’s signature had been pressed with a force that suggested anger or perhaps just impatience. Elara read the words twice, her eyes tracing the jagged strokes of Thorne’s handwriting, which had grown sharper in the three years she had served under him. He demanded the return of the Codex Aurelia by the next...
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