The Golden Song
You walk. The road is wet. The air smells of iron and rot. You are cold. The chain on your ankle drags. It leaves a red line in the mud. You look down. You look up. The gate is black. It is tall. It has spikes. You are going in. You are not afraid. You are tired. You have been walking for three days. Your legs hurt. Your mind is loud. You know things. You know too much. This is why you are...
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