The Golden Oath
Act I Lei Zheng, a scholar of forty-five years, sat in the damp chill of his office at forty-seven of Candlewick Row, where the gas ring hissed a low, constant note against the silence. He held the golden seal, its surface warm as a living pulse, and watched the crack that had appeared that morning spread like a vein of frost across the gold. The seal was a burden, a thing that whispered his...
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