The Golden Song
"You will not fight." The voice came from the shadows of the tower room. It was dry. It was final. It was the voice of the Law. You stood before it. Your hands were steady. Your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird. You did not breathe. You waited. "I must," you said. The words hung in the cold air. They were small. They were fragile. The Law looked at you. He was old. His face...
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