The Golden Quest
You stand at the edge of the moor. The fog is thick. It eats the light. You are a soldier. You have been a soldier for forty years. Your armor is rusted. It fits your bones. You do not feel pain. You feel weight. A figure approaches. It is small. It moves without sound. This is the Witness. He wears a cloak of grey wool. His face is hidden. He stops ten paces away. "Lord Ashworth," he says. His...
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