The Golden Ritual

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 10:02:47 -

The Golden Ritual

The bread was stale. Not dry, not crumbly, but heavy with a dampness that felt like rot. I held it in my left hand, the crust rough against my palm, and watched the dust motes dance in the shaft of light that cut through the high window of the Hall. It was a beautiful light. It was a lie. I am the Baker. Or rather, I was the Baker. The title has been stripped from my name, much like the skin...

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