The Golden Song
The wine is thick and tastes of iron and old blood, pooling in the center of the oak table where you have sat for three days, watching the candlelight flicker against the high stone walls of the Abbey of St. Jude, a place that has swallowed more secrets than the sea swallows ships, and you are here not as a guest but as a warden, a man tasked with the impossible duty of finding the flaw in a...
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