The Golden Oath
The bell tower of St. Jude’s was not merely a structure of stone and mortar; it was a living lung, breathing in the damp chill of the valley and exhaling a rhythmic, metallic groan that seemed to resonate directly within the marrow of my bones. I stood on the narrow walkway, my hands slick with sweat and the viscous, copper-tasting dust of the bell’s interior, fighting the violent shudder that...
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