The Golden Song
The chisel bit deep into the granite, and the stone screamed. It was not a sound that belonged to the world of men, but a low, grinding thrum that vibrated in the marrow of Elias’s bones. He worked in the basement of his workshop, the air thick with the scent of wet dust and old iron. His hands bled where they gripped the chisel, the skin raw and white from the friction. Above him, the city of...
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