The Golden Maze
The count of the gold thread was a tedious, mechanical act, each strand weighed against the other in the mind of the man who would soon be wrapped in it, a forty-year-old captain whose lungs had begun to sound like dry leaves skittering over stone. Captain Elias Thorne stood before the King in the high hall, the air thick with the scent of roasting meats and the heavy, cloying perfume of the...
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