The Golden Scar

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 18:37:12 -

The Golden Scar

The wind did not blow. It held its breath. Marek stood in the center of the circular hall. The stone was cold under his boots. It was a cold that lived in the marrow, older than the frost outside. He was a Warden. His uniform was grey wool, stiff with age and duty. He had worn it for twenty years. The fabric had become part of his skin. He could not remember the feel of cotton or silk. Only the...

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