The Golden Cellar
The rain had stopped, but the air still tasted of wet iron and decay. You stood at the edge of the black mud, your boots sinking into the soft earth of the valley you had crossed three days ago. Behind you, the forest loomed, a dense wall of grey and brown that seemed to breathe with a cold, damp malice. You were not alone, though you had not seen another living soul in weeks. There was Elias,...
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