The Golden Quest
The letter was on my desk when I arrived, sitting atop a stack of unpaid invoices for the restoration of the Vane estate. It was postmarked for a date three months in the future. The paper was thick, cream-colored, and smelled faintly of sulfur and old dust. I turned it over in my hands, the weight of it strange against the dry, brittle reality of the bills beneath it. I am Elias, twenty-four,...
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