The Golden Master

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2026-08-17 20:59:24 -

The Golden Master

The road was white with frost, and the cold bit into my marrow like a rusted nail. I walked. My boots crunched on the ice. The sky was a bruised purple, hanging low over the city of Aethelgard. I carried nothing but a leather satchel and a heart that hammered against my ribs. I was young. I was foolish. I believed I could fix the world. The city smelled of coal smoke and wet stone. It was...

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