The Golden Quest
In Elias’s hand, the quill trembled, not from cold, but from the sheer weight of the inkwell he held. It was a small, glass vessel, stained brown at the rim, containing a liquid that seemed to pulse with a faint, blue warmth. He dipped the nib, feeling the drag of the thick pigment against the fiber, and set it to the vellum. The letter *A* did not merely sit on the page; it shimmered, a tiny,...
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