The Golden Scar

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2026-08-20 10:56:51 -

The Golden Scar

The bread was dry. It crumbled under Thomas’s thumb. He did not eat it. He held it. The dust rose in the pale air of the cell. It hung there, suspended, like the breath of the dead. Thomas was a Guard. He wore the gray tunic. The wool itched. It chafed his neck. He had worn it for ten years. Ten years of gray. Ten years of silence. The walls were stone. Cold stone. They drank the light. They...

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