The Golden Oath

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2026-08-18 16:17:44 -

The Golden Oath

The dream was wet. Thick as tar. It smelled of rust and rotting peaches. I stood in the cellar of the old mill, the one they sealed up three winters ago. The air tasted of copper. I could not breathe. The walls were breathing with me. In, out. In, out. A low hum vibrated in my teeth. I looked down. My hands were black. Not dirty. Black. Like coal. Like the soot that caked the lungs of the men...

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