The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-18 04:35:40 -

I woke with the taste of iron in my mouth. The cellar was cold. The air smelled of damp stone and old wool. I am a man who walks. That is my trade. I find what is lost. Or rather, I find the shape of what was lost, and the space where it used to be. I am in the village of Oakhaven. It sits in a valley where the fog never fully lifts. The houses are built of grey stone, huddled together like...

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