The Golden Harbor
The fire did not begin with a spark, nor with a whisper of smoke rising from the hearth, but rather with a sudden, violent tearing of the sky itself, a rupture in the fabric of the night that sent a cascade of embers raining down upon the shingle roof of the Blackwood manor like a shower of burning stars. It was a sound that defied description, a crackling roar that drowned out the wind and the...
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