The Golden Ritual

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 09:49:47 -

The Golden Ritual

The mud clung to my boots like a second skin, cold and heavy as grief. I stood in the center of the town square, the cobblestones slick with rain and the blood of men who had forgotten their names. The air smelled of iron and wet wool. Around me, the militia formed a semicircle, their pikes leveled, their faces hidden behind iron masks that gleamed in the dim light of the streetlamps. I was the...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews