The Golden Ritual

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2026-08-22 11:37:05 -

The Golden Ritual

The bell rang. It did not toll. It vibrated in the marrow. I woke with my mouth full of gold dust. It tasted of iron. It tasted of old blood. I am seven. I am small. The room is stone. The stone is cold. The air is thick. It smells of wax and sweat. I do not move. I am afraid. The dust in my teeth grinds. It is not dust. It is scale. I look at my hands. They are yellow. The veins are dark lines...

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