The Golden Circuit
The rain fell on the castle. It fell with a weight that bruised the stone. I am the warden. I keep the gate. The gate is iron. The iron is cold. My hands are cold. I am waiting. I have always been waiting. Here, time is a loop. It spins. It does not move forward. It only deepens. The mist rises from the valley below. It tastes of salt and old blood. I wear my armor. It is heavy. It chafes the...
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