The Golden Circuit
The first letter was written on a scrap of parchment. The ink was brown. Mara wrote her name. She wrote the date. The date was wrong. She crossed it out. She wrote it again. The date was still wrong. The year did not matter. The season was late. The wind bit through the stone. She folded the paper. She sealed it with wax. The wax was cold. It crumbled in her hand. She stared at the crumbs. They...
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