The Golden Quest
"You are holding it upside down, Elias." I looked down at the specimen in my hands. It was a root, thick as a thumb, pale and fibrous, trembling slightly in the cold air of the archive. The temperature in the basement was a constant twelve degrees, damp and biting, the kind of cold that settles in the joints and stays there. I adjusted my grip. The root pulsed. A warm, rhythmic throb that...
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