The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-22 13:06:03 -

The fire did not roar; it whispered, a dry, rasping sound like old parchment being torn. Sir Aldric stood at the edge of the square, his sword hand steady, his other hand gripping the hilt of his shield with a white-knuckled desperation. The children sat in a circle in the center of the ash, their eyes wide and wet, the black sigils on their foreheads pulsing with a faint, sickly amber light....

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