The Golden Scar
The feast began at dusk, when the fog rolled off the harbor and swallowed the cobblestones. It was a long table, stretching down the length of the village square, laden with roasted meats and dark bread. The air smelled of woodsmoke and old blood. Everyone wore white. They always wore white for the Reckoning. They sat in silence, their hands clasped over their bowls, waiting for the bell. Elias...
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