The Golden Circuit
The rain had been falling for three days, a thin, relentless mist that turned the air in the courtyard into a heavy, wet wool, and I stood alone in the center of the stone yard, watching the golden leaf of the old oak tree, which had been there since before the castle was built, curl and blacken at its edges, its veins turning from a vibrant, life-giving amber to a brittle, dusty brown, as if...
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