The Golden Quest
The ink in the margin was still wet when I found it, a dark smear against the vellum that smelled of iron and old dust. I had been staring at the Golden Codex for three hours, my eyes burning from the strain of deciphering its cramped, archaic script, but this line was different. It was written in my own hand, a handwriting I recognized with a jolt of nausea that stopped my heart. The date was...
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