The Golden Crossing

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 14:54:31 -

The fog in Aethelgard did not rise; it hung, a thick, grey shroud that swallowed the spires of the palace and the faces of the men who patrolled its corridors. Elias Thorne adjusted the grip on his sword, his knuckles white and trembling against the cold iron. He was forty years old, though the ache in his knees and the persistent cough that rattled in his chest suggested he was half that age...

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