The Golden Master
The bell in the tower did not ring. It sat there, a golden eye, wide and unblinking. I left the house with my coat buttoned to the chin. The air tasted of iron and wet wool. I walked toward the Palace. I walked because I had no other choice. I walked because the door was open. I walked because Elara was waiting. She stood by the fountain. The water did not flow. It hung in the air, suspended,...
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