The Golden Harbor
The iron bell in the courtyard did not ring for the morning shift; it tolled for the dead, a sound so heavy and dull it seemed to vibrate in the marrow of your bones rather than strike the eardrum. You stood beneath the archway of the keep, the damp chill of the stone seeping through the wool of your tunic, watching the mist cling to the harbor below like a shroud that refused to be lifted. The...
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