The Golden Maze
The iron gates of the Citadel did not creak as they swung open, a silence so absolute and heavy that it seemed to press against the eardrums of those who entered, for the air within had grown thick with the scent of old parchment, dust, and the metallic tang of blood that had long since dried into the porous stone walls, a smell that clung to the back of the throat like a persistent lie....
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