The Golden Maze
The bell tolled. It was a low sound. It came from the tower. The stone was cold. Mara held the key. It was iron. It was heavy. It burned her palm. She looked at the door. It was oak. It was ancient. It had no handle. Only the keyhole. She waited. The fog rolled in. It smelled of rot. It smelled of sea. The village slept. No one woke. No one saw. She was alone. This was the end. The long road...
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