The Golden Harbor
The bell did not ring; it screamed. It was a sound that tore through the velvet silence of the Hall of Whispers, a jagged shard of iron that cut the air and the skin simultaneously, and in that instant, the world I had built for myself, fragile as spun sugar and heavy as lead, shattered into a thousand glittering pieces on the stone floor. I stood there, my hands trembling so violently that the...
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