The Golden Compass
You walk the long, dusty road that cuts through the heart of the old valley, where the air tastes of iron and dried heather, and you know, with a certainty that sits heavy in your gut like a swallowed stone, that you are carrying something that is not entirely yours. The path is a boundary, a thin line drawn in the dirt between the world of the living and the grey, silent void that waits beyond...
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