The Golden Ritual
You stand at the edge of the city wall, the mud sucking at your boots as the rain begins to fall. It is not a gentle rain. It is a cold, grey sheet that blurs the line between the sky and the cobblestones. You are looking down at the street below, where the market stalls are being packed up in a panic. The vendors are shouting, their voices thin and high-pitched, lost in the wet air. You do not...
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