The Golden Master

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 23:15:11 -

The Golden Master

The rain had stopped, but the air still tasted of wet iron and old stone. I stood at the gate of the Citadel, my hand resting on the hilt of a sword I no longer wanted to draw. Behind me, the city slept in a grey haze, the spires of the Cathedral of St. Jude piercing the low clouds like broken fingers. I was a Sergeant of the Night Watch. A soldier. A tool. I had served for ten years. Ten years...

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