The Golden Myth

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2026-08-21 02:48:50 -

The Golden Myth

The gravel crunched under my boots like old bones, a sound that echoed in the hollow of my chest as I walked up the long, sloping drive to the manor. It was late October in the valley, and the air smelled of wet pine needles and the metallic tang of coming rain. I had not been here in twenty years, not since I was a boy running barefoot across the lawn, chasing fireflies that looked like stars...

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