The Golden Song

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2026-08-17 12:43:22 -

The Golden Song

The mist clung to the stone walls of the keep. It was thick. Wet. It tasted of iron and old rain. Silas stood by the narrow window. He watched the forest below. The trees were black. They swayed in the wind. They did not stop. He adjusted his belt. The leather creaked. It was stiff. It had not been oiled in weeks. His sword hung at his hip. The steel was cold. It did not want to be drawn....

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