The Golden Quest
The rain was not falling so much as it was being injected, a cold, saline needle driven into the soft tissue of the sky, and you felt the viscosity of the atmosphere changing, thickening into a gelatinous medium that resisted the swing of your sword, which was more a tool of surveying than a weapon of war, a long, slender rod of pale ash wood tipped with a shard of obsidian that caught the dim,...
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