The Golden Song

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2026-08-17 19:23:26 -

The Golden Song

The road was red clay. It stained my boots, my trousers, the hems of my cloak. I had walked for three days. The sky above was a bruise, purple and swollen, holding its breath. I carried no sword. I carried no shield. I carried a cloak. It was heavy. It was golden. It was the weight of a sin I had not yet committed, or perhaps one I had already forgotten. I am a soldier. I have always been a...

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