The Golden Farce

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2026-08-24 19:26:44 -

The Golden Farce

The tongs were red-hot, and Elias Thorne held them with a grip that had nothing to do with precision and everything to do with panic. He was nineteen, thin as a wire, and he was staring at the hands of Silas Vane. Silas was sixty-two, a man whose fingers had once moved with the fluidity of water but now twitched with a dry, rattling tremor that made the master forge-keeper look like a puppet...

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