The Golden Oath
The parchment lay on the rough-hewn table, the ink still wet and glistening like a wound that refused to close. Elias Thorne, a man whose joints had begun to stiffen with the early ache of middle age, stared at the signature he was expected to affix, his hand trembling not from fear but from the sheer, crushing weight of the bargain being offered. The village of Oakhaven was dying, its stones...
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