The Golden Oath
The magistrate’s seal was pressed into the wet clay of the town square, a heavy, circular bruise on the earth that declared Elias Thorne a criminal before the ink had even dried. It was a Tuesday, the air thick with the smell of roasting chestnuts and the sharper, metallic tang of fear, and Elias stood in the center of the crowd, his hands bound with rough hemp, listening to the silence that...
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