The Golden Song
The road to the Abbey of St. Jude is a scar of red clay that splits the green hills, and you have walked it for so long that the soles of your boots have worn through to the leather of the earth beneath, a sensation that feels less like walking and more like the slow, grinding erosion of a stone face by an unrelenting wind. You are a warrior, or you were, before the fever took the strength from...
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