The Golden Ritual
The gold dust settles on the dead tongue, a fine, sweet powder that tastes of honey and iron, and you wake with the taste still coating your teeth, the taste of the syrup your mother drank every morning for thirty years. You are Elias, forty-two, a master glazier whose hands are stained with lead and acid, and you are standing in the center of the Harrowgate estate, a crumbling Victorian manor...
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