The Golden Scar
The rain had not ceased for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that blurred the boundaries between the cobblestones of the lower city and the wet, shivering souls who dragged themselves through its depths. I stood at the window of my cell, a space so narrow that my breath fogged the glass each time I exhaled, watching the water drip from the eaves in a rhythmic, mournful tick that marked...
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