The Golden Ritual
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the grey stone of the watchtower, a rhythmic, maddening percussion that seemed to count down the hours of my silence. I sat on the cold floor, my back against the rough-hewn wall, and I held the object in my hands. It was a watch. Not a digital device, nor a smartwatch with its glowing blue face, but a heavy, brass-cased timepiece, its...
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