The Golden Harbor

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 23:12:05 -

The Golden Harbor

The frost bit at my knuckles. I gripped the lantern handle tighter. The wood was worn smooth, polished by years of my own sweat and fear. It was a bad sign. The lantern had always been cold. Tonight, it burned like a coal in my palm. We marched into the dark. The forest was a wall of black iron. The wind screamed through the bare branches. It sounded like a woman dying. I did not look back. I...

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