The Golden Ritual
The bell tower collapsed at dawn. You heard it before you saw it. A groan of wood. A snap of stone. Then the silence that follows a gunshot. You stood in the square. Dust fell like snow. It settled on your coat. It settled on your face. You did not wipe it away. You were the mason. You had built the tower. You had laid every stone. You had mixed every brick. You knew the weight. You knew the...
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