The Golden Scar
The rain in the Hollow did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended gray mist that tasted of iron and old pennies. We stood at the edge of the precipice, where the paved roads of the Outer Ring ended and the wild, uncharted grey of the Inner Void began. I looked at Elias. He was still breathing, though with a laborious, rattling slowness that reminded me of a bellows pumping against...
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