The Golden Harbor
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the keep, a steady, hollow rhythm that matched the beating of my heart. I stood by the window. The glass was cold. My breath fogged the pane. I wiped it away. The view outside was gray. The moat was black. The willows hung like shrouds. My name is Elias. I am the Warden. I have been the Warden for forty years. My back...
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