The Golden Ritual
The road into the valley was not so much a path as a scar in the earth, a long, jagged line of mud and broken stone that wound through the grey mist like a vein of lead in pale skin, and I walked it with the heavy, deliberate step of a man who has forgotten how to move any other way, my boots sinking deep into the wet clay with a sound that was less a squelch and more a sigh, a slow exhalation...
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