The Golden Song
The bell in the tower of St. Jude’s didn’t ring; it screamed. It was a sound that tore through the damp, fog-heavy air of the valley, a jagged shriek that seemed to peel the skin off the morning. Elias stood at the center of the courtyard, his boots caked in mud that had turned to slush overnight, and he did not flinch. He adjusted the grip on his sword, the iron cold against his calloused...
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