The Golden Oath
The wind howled through the spires. It was a cold sound. It cut through the wool. It cut through the bone. Thomas stood in the center of the hall. The hall was large. It was old. The stones were gray. The dust was thick. He held the stone. It was warm. It was heavy. It pulsed in his hand. He was not alone. Margaret stood by the door. She was small. Her face was pale. She watched him. Her eyes...
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