The Golden Myth

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2026-08-19 17:16:42 -

The Golden Myth

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick, grey curtain that smelled of wet stone and ancient rot, as the carriage pulled away from the gates of the Hall and left behind the figure of the old scholar, whose legs had finally given up the fight against the cold. He had been a man of words, of ink-stained fingers and the quiet, dusty comfort of the library, but now he was merely...

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