The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-21 10:19:17 -

The iron gate of Blackwood Manor did not creak when you opened it. It groaned, a low, tectonic shudder that traveled through the cobblestones and up into the soles of your boots, a sound like a bone snapping under pressure. You stood there, in the grey mist that clung to the moors like a burial shroud, holding the ledger. The leather was warm, pulsing against your palm as if it held a heartbeat...

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