The Golden Oath
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended curtain of grey water that blurred the edges of the world and dissolved the distinction between the wet cobblestones of the village square and the damp, rotting wood of the chapel door, a place where the air tasted of iron filings and old, forgotten prayers, and it was here, in this enclosed throat of stone and shadow, that Elias...
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