The Golden Ritual
"You’re late," the Warden said. His voice was not loud, but it carried the weight of a stone dropped into a deep, silent well. He did not look up from the ledger in front of him. The paper was cream-colored, aged, and smelled faintly of dust and dried lavender. "The ritual begins at noon. We are already past it." I stood in the doorway, my hands trembling so violently that I could not stop...
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