The Golden Farce
The sky broke open without warning. You felt the heat before you saw the fire. It tasted of copper and old ash. You were riding. The horse, a grey mare named Elara, shied violently. Her hooves clawed at the loose shale of the pass. You held on. You did not scream. Screaming was for those who had something left to lose. You had a duty. You had a name. You had a woman waiting in a house by the...
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